-^ 


K*Jr 


The  Book  of  Words 

of 

St.  Clair  County  Pageant 

by 
THOMAS  WOOD   ST^^|y^J)    J^    JAI^ES 


0       0       0 


hi  Com})iemoratio7i  of  the 
Removal  of  the  County 
Seat  to  Belleville,  Septem- 
ber, 19  U 


0        0        0 

BELLEVILLE.    ILLINOIS 

SEPTEMBER 

1914 


''"^m^^^ 


Copyright,  1914 
By 
Thomas  Wood  Stevens 


A  FOREWORD 

For  invaluable  assistance  in  the  preparation 
of  this  book,  I  wish  to  make  acknowledgement  to 
many  citizens  of  Belleville  and  East  St.  Louis,  and 
in  particular  to  Judge  Frank  Perrin  and  Mr.  Luke 
Hite,  who  placed  at  my  disposal  their  great  store 
of  information  regarding  the  history  of  St.  Clair 
County.  It  is  not  possible,  in  the  limits  of  the 
Pageant  scene,  to  portray  in  full  detail  any  one  of 
the  events  treated;  hence  the  effort  has  been  to 
condense  and  select,  and  deal  in  the  spirit  rather 
than  the  fact  of  history.  In  some  cases,  as  for 
example  in  the  Clark  scene,  a  picturesque  hero- 
tale  has  been  preferred  to  the  hteral  record;  but 
in  this  case,  though  we  introduce  the  scene  of  the 
ball  which  was  apparently  invented  by  Major  Den- 
ny for  his  ^'Memoirs,"  the  significant  phase  of  the 
scene  is  found  in  Clark's  interview  with  Pere 
Gibault,  and  here  the  Pageant  follows  the  fact.  I 
have  in  certain  cases  elaborated  upon  tradition 
for  dramatic  purposes,  as  in  the  Blair  scene  and 
the  Court  scene,  but  in  each  case  with  an  effort 
to  express  character.  Certain  -scenes  are  here 
adopted  from  my  * 'Pageant  of  the  Old  Northwest," 
and  from  other  works  which  have  a  common  back- 
ground with  this.  But  the  greater  part  of  the 
book  is,  I  believe,  new. 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  here  to  set  down 
my  gratitude  to  Messrs.  Solari  and  Schoeller,  to 


Mr.  Donald  Robertson,  and  to  the  citizens  of  St. 
Clair  County  for  the  triumphant  performance  and 
reception  of  the  Pageant. 

Thomas  Wood  Stevens. 


BY  DIRECTOR  JOSEPH  SOLARI 

I  cannot  commend  too  highly  the  hearty  co- 
operation shown  by  the  people  of  Belleville  in  the 
production  of  their  Pageant  of  St.  Clair. 

From  the  leading  spirits  to  the  humblest 
laborer  there  existed  a  unity  of  purpose  that  made 
failure  impossible.  If  the  captains  of  industry 
could  gather  about  them  men  and  women  such 
as  participated  in  this  work,  w^ho  leveled  every 
barrier  of  prejudice  and  sought  only  to  express 
the  best  that  was  in  them,  then  this  world  indeed 
would  be  a  "garden  lovely  in  blossom,  rich  in 
fruit." 

The  Pageant  of  St.  Clair  has  been  a  genuine 
inspiration  to  me,  and  my  one  desire  now  is  to 
see  other  communities  awake  to  the  wonderful 
possibilities  of  Pageantry. 

What  is  more  inspiring  than  to  see  hundreds 
of  men  and  women,  of  various  beliefs  and  profes- 
sions, launch  into  an  enterprise  whose  only  sub- 
stance is  a  dream,  and  then  see  them  turn  it  to 
shape  and  give  *'to  airy  nothing  a  local  habitation 
and  a  name."  For  such  was  what  these  men  and 
women  did.  Indeed  it  requires  great  faith  and 
courage  to  attempt  to  reflect  the  important 
characters  and  episodes  in  the  history  of  a  com- 


munity  into  living  words  and  breathing  pictures, 
with  but  the  imagination  as  a  tool  and  the  word  of 
the  historian  as  a  guide. 

The  people  of  Belleville  can  justly  be  proud  of 
their  achievement,  an  achievement  that  gradually 
dawned  like  a  glorious  dream  and  quietly  vanished 
as  such,  leaving  an  indelible  impression  and  a 
lasting  inspiration. 

Joseph  Solari. 


BY  MR.  MUNIE 


In  presenting  this  souvenir  book  of  the 
Pageant  of  St.  Clair  to  those  who  participated 
actively  in  the  production  of  this  great  ''folk- 
drama"  the  St.  Clair  County  Historical,  Memo- 
rial and  Improvement  Association,  which  body  was 
in  charge  of  the  Centennial  Festivities  which 
marked  the  One  Hundredth  Anniversary  of  the 
foundation  of  Belleville  and  the  establishment  of 
the  county  seat  of  St.  Clair  County,  Illinois,  at 
Belleville,  the  association  sought  a  means  to  ex- 
press its  thanks  to  all  who  helped  make  the 
Pageant  the  unquestioned  success  it  was. 

Without  the  self  sacrificing  efforts  of  all  who 
gave  their  time  to  this  great  enterprise  the 
Pageant  could  not  have  been  given.  No  one  per- 
son or  group  of  persons  is  entitled  to  a  greater 
mead  of  credit  than  another  because  it  required 
the  united  labor  of  all  to  accomplish  the  end 
sought. 


The  Pageant  will  live  in  the  history  of  Belle- 
ville and  St.  Clair  County  as  the  grandest  com- 
munity enterprise  ever  undertaken  and  every 
participant  will  treasure  the  memory  of  his  or  her 
participation,  whether  in  the  cast  or  on  the  pro- 
duction staff. 

As  chairman  of  the  Pageant  Committee  and 
as  President  of  the  St.  Clair  County  Historical, 
Memorial  and  Improvement  Association  I  want  to 
add  my  sincere  thanks  to  every  member  of  the 
Pageant  ''family"  for  the  conscientious  service 
rendered. 

Respectfully, 

Michael  L.  Munie. 


The  Pageant  of  St.  Clair 

—  PRODUCFD  AT  — 

BELLEVILLE,  ILLINOIS 
SEPTEMBER  14  TO  19,  1914 

UNDER  THE  AUSPICES  OF 

THE  ST.  CLAIR  COUNTY 
HISTORICAL,  MEMORIAL  AND  IMPROVE- 
MENT ASSOCIATION 

—  CCMMEMORATING  — 

One  Hundredth  Anniversary  of  the  Establishment 

of  the  Seat  of  Government  for  St.  Clair 

County  111.,  at  Belleville. 


OFFICERS  AND  DIRECTORS 

M.  L.  MUNIE,  President 

F.  W.  LAWSON,  Executive  Secretary 

NIC.  WULLER,  Treasury 

DIRECTORS 

JUDGE  FRANK  PERRIN 

DR.  B.  H.  PORTUONDO 

W.  A.  HOUGH 

EMIL  GEIL 

JOHN  SAX 

MISS  JOHANNA  LOREY 

MISS  PEARL  TILEY 

AUXILIARY    PAGEANT 
COMMITTEE 

CHARLES  PELKUS,  Chairman 

MRS.  CLARA  HALBERT  NEEDLES,  Secretary 

MRS.  J.  W.  RENTCHLER 

MISS  ELSIE  LENGFELDER 

MISS  IDA  THORNBURY 

MRS.  J.  W.  TWITCHELL 

AUTHOR 
Thomas  Wood  Stevens 

DIRECTORS 
Joseph  C.  Solari,  William  Schoeller 


SCENE  ONE 


[The  Moundbuilders  and  the  legend  of  the  Piasa 
Bird.  The  moment  chosen  is  that  of  the  destruction 
of  the  monster  by  Ouataga;  the  scene  is  designed  also 
to  suggest  the  great  racial  movement  which  led  the 
Indians  to  abandon  their  mounds  and  their  agricul- 
ture.] 

CHARACTERS 

An  Old  Indian  Chief Oscar  Weber 

A  Young  Hunter John  Pessel 

Ouataga,  a  Seer John  Dietz 


Orie  Morrisey 
Eugene  Marsh 
Elmer  Dorn 
Paul  Peskind 
Clyde  McCormick 
Curt  Leuschner 
Elmer  Laut 
Wm.  Heimberger 
Oliver  Funk 
Walter  Dagne 
Lloyd  Marshal 
Fred  Blum 


MOUND    BUILDERS 

Albert  Hendrich 
Walter  Batdorf 
Otto  Hueffner 
Phillip  Huefner 
Roy  Metzler 
Lavern  Metzler 
Fred  Werner 
Isaac  Walker 
Edward  Kaysing 
Thos.  Miller 
Nathan  Peskind 
Frank  Burns 


Hans  Christopherson  Clemens  Rauth 

Will  Krummerich  Chas  Burkhardt 

Philip  Deitz  Guy  Anderson 
James  Cobb 

[The  overture  is  heard  in  the  darkness,  closing 
with  an  Indian  motif  of  drums.  A  light  falls  on  the 
platform  of  the  Medicine  Lodge,  at  the  side  of  the 
stage,  and  White  Cloud,  (Wabakeshik)  the  Prophet, 
is  discovered.! 

WHITE  CLOUD 

Great  Manitou,  who  livest  in  the  sun, 

Whose  voice  we  hear  amid  the  battling  clouds, 

Spirit  who  mad'st  the  world  of  the  red  clay, 

And  in  the  world  the  children  of  thy  might, 

I,  the  Foreteller,  I  the  Prophet,  call  thee: 

For  in  my  people's  councils  I  am  wise, 

And  in  the  paleface  councils  am  a  child ; 

For  I  have  fasted  in  the  caves  of  tears, 

Lain  ear-to-earth  to  hear  thy  whisper,  worn 

Black  war-paint  of  the  prophet  and  the  seer. 

And  lo,  the  medicine  and  magic  of  thy  name 

Are  mine!     Great  Manitou,  thy  children  fall, 

And  the  long  bitter  war  trail  nears  its  end. 

Let  me  look  back.     The  fields  were  rich.     The 

smokes 
Rose  up  from  fire  on  fire  along  the  hills, 
And  all  our  people,  tribe  on  wandering  tribe, 
Prospered,  and  there  was  hunting  for  us  all. 
So  say  the  old  men.     Now  the  day  is  gone 
And  the  chill  stars  who  dog  thy  westward  track 
Watch  us  with  wintry  eyes  like  wolves  at  night. 

6 


Manitou  of  the  Oak,  I  call  on  thee, 

For  thou  dost  take  the  scalplocks  of  dead  years 

To  wear  them  in  thy  crimson  autumn  hood. 

And  living  long,  dost  feed  upon  the  hearts 

Of  the  brave  springs  who  sing  beneath  thy  shade. 

Thou  dost  remember.     Tree  gods,  hear  my  spell 

And  breathe  my  medicine.     Bring  back  the  glov/ 

Of  our  forgotten  camp-fires ;  bring  our  chiefs 

To  their  lost  councils.     Feed  mine  ancient  hate 

With  visions  of  our  wars,  back  to  the  dawn 

When  there  had  come  no  paleface  to  our  lands 

And  our  unhindered  rivers  were  not  shamed 

With  any  burden  of  our  enemies. 

Teach  me,  gray  Manitou  of  Oak,  the  tale. 

And  let  me  hear,  as  when  the  old  men  make 

Among  the  tepees  their  unending  vaunt. 

Thy  winter-song.     Oak,  thou  art  tall.     Thy  head 

Nuzzles  against  the  clouds;  and  thou  art  old, — 

Much  thou  hast  seen.     Thou  followest  no  trail. 

So  thou  rememberest.     Oak,  I  bid  thee  speak, 

I  bid  thy  shadows  clear.     I  bid  the  mom 

To  burn  anew — the  red  mom  of  our  tribe. 

[The  light  fades  suddenly  and  White  Cloud  dis- 
appears.] 

[The  place  is  the  top  of  a  mound,  dimly  lighted;  but 
the  people  are  bringing  earth  and  building  up  the 
level,  under  the  direction  of  an  old  chief.] 

THE  OLD  CHIEF 

The  earth,  the  red  earth,  my  children. 
Heap  it  high,  that  this  mound  of  our  worship  and 
our  justice  may  rise, 


Heap  it  high,  that  the  spirits  of  your  dead  fathers 

may  be  glad, 
That  the  earth  gods  may  dance  in  the  darkness, 
That  the  river  manitous  may  not  tear  at  our 

grave-s  when  they  are  maddened  with  the  floods 

of  Spring. 

[The  Young  Hunter  comes  running  in.] 

HUNTER 

0  my  Father — 

OLD   CHIEF 
Speak,  young  runner  of  the  Wolf  Clan. 

HUNTER 

The  buffalo— they  feed  along  the  hills  of  sunset. 

1  have  heard,  I  have  seen. 

I  have  run  hither  that  our  hunters  may  follow 
them  with  arrows. 

[Cries  of  "The  Buffalo,"  "Take  Bows!"] 

OLD   CHIEF 

Stay,  my  children. 

I  am  old.     I  move  slowly.     I  am  wise. 

Set  not  your  feet  to  this  hunting. 

Toil  on  in  the  good  red  earth. 

That  the  mounds  may  lift  their  heads  above  your 

fields, 
And  the  Manitous  be  not  angry. 
And  the  dead  sleep  sound. 

HUNTER 
He  is  old,  my  brothers. 


His  feet  are  heavy  for  this  hunting. 

He  bids  you  stay. 

But  I  have  seen  the  hills  black  with  the  herds 

against  the  sunset. 
I  call  you  to  the  trails  and  the  feasting. 

OLD  CHIEF 

The  corn  will  ripen  if  the  fields  be  guarded. 
But  the  lodge  of  the  hunter  is  empty  when  the 
snows  break  around  it. 

HUNTER 

The  fields  are  for  women. 

Let  them  gather  the  corn.  Let  them  grind  it  in 
winter. 

[Ouataga  enters,  and  stands  listening.] 

OLD  CHIEF 

Evil  days  are  upon  us,  and  our  manitous  are 
angry. 

They  have  sent  against  us  the  bird  whose  wings 
beat  thunder. 

They  have  sent  the  Piasa  bird,  that  he  may  devour 
us. 

They  are  angry  at  the  wandering  foot,  angry  be- 
cause of  the  red  blood  of  slain  beasts, 

Angry  at  the  hunting  and  the  feasting. 

Do  not  go  my  children,  lest  the  bird  of  the  light- 
ning devour  you. 

I  have  spoken. 

9 


HUNTER 

He  is  old,  and  each  year  the  buffalo  graze  further 

toward  the  sunrise. 
It  is  the  will  of  Kitchemanedo,  who  drives  them 

hither, 
And  shall  we  turn  from  the  feasting? 
If  the  bird  of  the  thunder  devour  us,  shall  we  not 

still  be  men? 
Shall  we  hide  in  our  lodges  till  he  fly  away? 
[Ouataga  comes  forward.] 

OUATAGA 
I  have  heard.     Lo,  I,  Ouataga,  head  of  the  Wolf 

Clan,  I  come  from  the  rivers  of  sleep. 
And  I  speak  with  the  voice  of  the  manitou  within 

me. 
The  bird  has  laid  a  terror  upon  us. 
He  has  taken  us,  men  and  maidens,  and  rent  us 

to  shreds,  and  devoured  us  upon  his  high  chff. 
He  is  the  child  of  the  flying  cloud,  and  the  mani- 

tous  of  the  cloud  people  send  him  against  us. 
Lo,  I  have  dreamed,  and  through  me  the  Piasa 

Bird  shall  die. 

OLD  CHIEF 
He  is  a  prophet.    His  dreams  are  true  dreams,  my 
children. 

OUATAGA 

Hunters  of  the  Wolf  Clan,  men  of  the  Turtle, 
Braves  and  bowmen  of  the  Serpent  and  the  Eagle, 
Are  your  bows  ready,  and  your  arrows  sharpened, 
Are  your  hearts  unshaken? 

10 


For  this  is  a  new  hunting,  and  I  have  need  of  keen 
arrows. 

THE  HUNTEPwS 
Yea,  we  are  ready. 

OUATAGA 

Hear  them  my  dream,  as  the  Totem  of  the  Wolf 
Clan  has  delivered  it  unto  me  in  the  caves  of 
night : 

You  shall  hide  in  the  hazels. 

Hide  well,  with  your  sharpest  arrows  on  the  bow- 
strings. 

Here  on  the  mound  one  shall  stand,  alone. 

And  alone  he  shall  sing  his  death  song, 

And  upon  him,  singing,  the  Piasa  Bird  shall  des- 
cend. 

And  your  arrows  shall  strike  him  down. 

Twenty  bows  there  shall  be,  and  the  bird  shall 
fall,  and  the  war  of  the  cloud  manitous  shall  be 
vanquished. 

And  one  man,  one  alone,  shall  sing  his  death-song. 

OLD  CHIEF 
Who  giveth  his  hfe?     Who  standeth  upon  the 

mound  ? 
And  when  shall  the  bird  come  upon  him? 

OUATAGA 
Even  now  the  bird  is  circling  in  the  sky, 
And  the  death-song  shall  be  mine. 

OLD  CHIEF 
Ouataga  is  young.     He  is  brave.     He  is  a  prophet, 

11 


I  am  old.    The  winter  is  gray  upon  me.     Let  me 

stand  here. 
Let  me  die,  that  Ouataga  may  live. 

HUNTER 
Ouataga  is  head  of  the  Wolf  Clan.     Let  not  the 

Wolf  Clan  weep  for  Ouataga. 
Let  me  sing  the  death-song. 

OUATAGA 

The  death-song  must  be  my  death-song. 

The  Bird  is  circling  above  me.     For  me,  and  for 

me  alone,  he  will  swoop. 
Let  your  arrows  be  ready. 

[They  draw  off  and  leave  him,  slowly,  the  twenty 
warriors  hiding  in  the  thicket.  Ouataga  stands  alone 
upon  the  mound,  chanting;  the  Old  Chief,  crouching 
at  the  foot  of  the  mound,  keeps  up  a  low  rumbling 
on  a  great  tomtom.] 

OUATAGA 
There  is  no  trail  where  my  foot  shall  fall, 
Only  the  trails  of  the  dead 
Under  the  bright  world 
And  out  of  the  light  of  the  stars. 
Hear  now  my  death-song. 
There  is  no  lodge  where  my  bow  shall  hang. 
Only  the  lodge  of  the  dead. 
In  the  smoke  of  the  dark  caverns, 
In  the  cold  night. 

As  the  fallen  branch  I  am  withered — 
Hear  now  my  death-song. 

[He  sees  the  Bird  above  him.] 

Manitous  of  the  Cloud,  I  call  you  to  battle. 

12 


Behold,  here  I  stand  in  my  war-gear. 

[There  is  a  sudden  darkness,  and  a  thunder  of 
drums.  The  Bird  descends,  swooping  at  Ouataga;  the 
arrows  fly  from  the  thicket  and  the  Bird  falls.  Ouata- 
ga stands  up,  dazed  but  triumphant.  The  hunters 
rush  from  their  hiding  places,  dancing  wildly  and 
shouting  for  a  moment;  then  a  pause,  and  the  Old  ^ 
Chief  speaks.]  ^C^ 

OLD  CHIEF  ^^  ^^ 

In  the  winter,  in  the  long  nights  of  Vi^J^iT* 
Our  clans  shall  tell  of  this  hui^Hil|^'' 
Our  arrow  makers  shall  cai-vewdn  the  stone  hills, 
They  shall  draw  in  the  stone  the  image  of  the 

Piasa, 
And  agaist  it  our  people  shall  shoot  their  arrows ; 
Each  year  they  shall  shoot  them,  that  the  Cloud 
people  may  remember  this  war-fare. 
HUNTER 
Lead  us  now,  0  Ouataga,  to  the  sunset. 
Let  us  drive  the  black  herds  from  the  cliffs,  that 
our  people  may  feast. 

OUATAGA 
You  shall  go  to  that  feasting,  but  I,  I  will  not 
lead  you. 

[Shouting,  the  hunters  go  out.] 
OLD  CHIEF 
The  hunters   go   out,   the  young  men,   and   the 
mounds  are  left  alone. 

OUATAGA 
Even  so. 

And  the  mounds,  at  the  end  of  this  hunting,  shall 
lift  their  heads  no  higher. 
13 


It  is  the  way  of  our  people. 

It  is  the  will  of  the  Master  of  Life. 

[The  lights  fade  gradually  as  Ouataga  speaks,  and 

he  is  left  in  darkness,  standing  upon  the  mound,  the 

Old  Chief  crouching  at  his  feet. 


14 


SCENE  TWO 

[Genturies  are  supposed  to  elapse.] 

[The  incident  takes  place  in  a  village  of  the  Illinois 
Indians.  It  is  derived,  so  far  as  Marquette's  part  in 
it  is  concerned,  from  his  own  account,  certain  of  the 
speeches  being  actually  quoted  from  him.  It  is  sup- 
posed to  take  place  in  the  late  summer  of  the  year 
1673.] 

CHARACTERS 

Pere  Jaques  Marquette Dr.  J.  K.  Conroy 

Louis  Jolliet Theo.  A.  Stoelzle 

Great  Sachem  of  Illinois John  J.  Dengler 

Council  Chief Anthony  Stoeckel 

An  Indian  Messenger Geo.  Joffray 

FIVE  FRENCHMEN,  FOLLOWERS   OF   MARQUETTE 

AND  JOLLIET 
Edgar  Hermann  Henry  Stoeckel 

Paul  Becherer  Ben  Probst 

Lee  Grandcolas 

INDIANS 

Oscar  Becherer  Adolph  Reznicek 

Harry  Drone  Fred  Drovetta 

John  Juen  Dominick  Schilling 

Geo.  WuUer  John  Sax 

Edward  Juen  Henry  Meyer 

15 


Emil  Klapp 
John  Dietrich 
Aug.  Kassebaum 
Jos.  Cordie 
Paul  Ratheim 


Stella  Stenger 
Ella  Fersch 
Theresa  Thebus 
Cyrilla  Gruenewald 
Marie  Glaser 
Rosa  Rensing 
Stella  Reis 
Clotilda  Faltus 
Elizabeth  Conroy 
Kathline  Kreher 


Ferd  Mayer 
Henry  Juen,  Jr. 
John  Kreher 
John  Aug 


SQUAWS 

Scholastica  Bretz 
Proxady  Wessel 
Cecelia  WuUer 
Edith  Zellmann 
Mrs.  Henry  Stoeckel 
Mrs.  August  Kassebaum 
Mrs.  Ben  Probst 
Aurelia  Schauerte 
Mrs.  Oscar  Becherer 
Rosa  Zinser 


INDIAN    CHILDREN 


John  Rensing,  Jr. 
Emery  Kreher 
Leo  Ratheim 
Isfried  Probst 
Hannamay  Thebus 
Louisa  Walter 
Elizabeth  Probst 
Marcellus  Wilbert 


William  Buechler 

Cornelius  Wilbert 

Eugene  Dammrich,  Jr. 

Hamilton  Igel 

Edgar  Drone 

Claude  Bedel 

Carl  Reis 

Joseph  Reis 

Eugene  Kohl 

[The  lights  come  on  gradually  and  the  fires  of  the 
council  encampment  are  kindled;  the  Indians  arouse 
themselves  and  make  preparation  for  the  Corn  Dance. 
The  women  come  in  bearing  bundles  of  cut  maize; 
smoke  ascends  from  the  altar  of  the  Corn  Manitou, 
and  the  chiefs  begin  the  dance,  leading  the  chant; 
a  second  circle  of  the  women  is  formed  outside,  swing- 
ing around  in  the  opposite  direction,  the  children  run- 
ning outside.] 

16 


THE  COPwN  CHANT 

Kitchemanedo, 

Master  of  Life, 

Made  man  of  the  pipe-clay 

Alone — alone ; 

Made  woman  of  pipe-clay 

To  be  his  sister ; 

Made  the  Corn  for  her  lover, 

Her  lord. 

Last  wooer,  first  lover, 

Her  comfort  and  lord. 

So  hath  the  Master  of  Life, 

Kitchemanedo, 

Sent  us  the  Com. 

[This  chant  is  repeated  three  times.  As  it  ceases, 
the  Great  Sachem  of  the  Illinois  enters,  followed  by  a 
group  of  his  warriors,  his  Calumet  Bearer,  and  his 
old  men.     The  lights  grow  brighter.] 

GREAT   SACHEM 
Am  I  welcome? 

COUNCIL  CHIEF 
We  dance,  all  our  people,  for  joy  that  you  have 
come. 

GREAT   SACHEM 

Your  tribe  is  gathered  for  thanksgiving — for  the 

Corn  Dance. 
You  enjoy  a  good  harvest? 

COUNCIL  CHIEF 
Our  harvest  has  been  rich.     We  have  sent  mes- 

17 


sengers  to  your  great  lodge  with  our  tribute — 
the  payment  of  the  seed-corn. 

GREAT  SACHEM 
The  calumet  goes  round,  and  your  people  dance, 
and  the  harvest  is  full.  But  in  the  southward 
country  our  brothers  are  at  war.  The  Iroquois 
and  the  Miamis  band  against  us.  The  peace- 
posts  are  blackened.  We  must  help  our  bro- 
thers. 

COUNCIL  CHIEF 
Our  young  men  shall  take  bows  and  axes,  and  cut 
down  your  enemies  as  the  winter  cuts  down  the 
dried  corn. 

SACHEM 
So  you  have  sworn  upon  the  sacred  fire  and  the  red 
earth,  and  you  have  exchanged  with  us  the 
calumets.  But  now,  against  the  Miamis,  we 
have  a  strange  war.  The  palefaces  from  be- 
yond the  mountains  have  given  to  the  Miamis 
their  weapons  of  fire  and  thunder,  and  the 
Miamis  drive  our  warriors  before  them  as  the 
red  deer  run  before  the  hunting  of  the  wolves. 

COUNCIL  CHIEF 
We  have  heard  of  these  pale  men.     They  are 
manitous. 

SACHEM 

This  is  light  talk,  this  talk  of  manitous ;  but  their 
medicine  is  strange  and  powerful.     They  smile, 

18 


and  speak  of  the  love  they  bear  us,  but  their 
thunders  slay  us  from  the  thickets.  There  are 
palefaces  of  two  kinds,  good  and  evil ;  so  much 
we  know.     Your  young  men  must  be  resolute. 

COUNCIL  CHIEF 
Why  should  not  we  also  seek  the  palefaces  and 
learn  their  witchcraft?     It  is  folly  of  us  to  die 
and  be  no  wiser. 

SACHEM 

Soon  enough  we  shall  learn  it. 

[A  Messenger  enters  and  stands  before  the  Great 
Sachem.] 
What  word  do  you  bring  us,  young  man  with 
feet  like  the  wind? 

THE  MESSENGER 

[Pointing.] 
The  Black  Gown. 

[A  number  of  Indian  children  come  running  in,  all 
looking  back  over  their  shoulders.  All  faces  turn, 
gazing.  After  a  slight  pause,  Marquette  enters,  fol- 
lowed by  JoUiet  and  five  Frenchmen,  bearing  packs 
and  canoes.] 

MARQUETTE 
I  am  welcome  ? 

SACHEM 
I  thank  thee,  Black  Gowti,  and  thee.  French- 
man, for  the  labor  of  your  coming.  Never 
shone  the  sun  so  tenderly  as  to-day ;  never  rustl- 
ed the  ripe  corn  so  pleasantly  as  now,  since  you 
are  with  us.  Our  river,  which  was  so  angry 
19 


at  the  rocks  that  chafed  it,  flows  calm  and 
silent,  since  the  canoes  of  the  white  man  have 
passed.  Behold,  Black  Gown,  I  give  thee  my 
little  son,  that  thou  mayst  know  my  heart. 
Thou  art  beloved  of  the  Great  Spirit.  Ask  him 
to  cherish  me  and  my  people. 

MARQUETTE 
[To  Jolliet.] 

Here,  Louis,  is  my  mission. 

JOLLIET 

In  all  our  travels  we  have  seen  no  chief  so  gra- 
cious, no  people  so  well  favored  for  the  work 
of  the  Church. 

SACHEM 

Black  Gown,  one  medicine  I  ask  of  thee.  The  pale- 
faces have  given  their  thunder-weapons  to  our 
enemies,  the  Miamis.  Give  us  also  weapons, 
that  we  may  defend  our  lodges  and  our  wo- 
men. 

MARQUETTE 
If  I  gave  you  weapons,  you  would  kill  the  Miamis, 
who  are  my  children  also. 

SACHEM 
We  would  defend  our  hunting  grounds. 

MARQUETTE 
I  bring  you  another  word,  my  son — a  word  of 
peace. 

20 


[The  Sachem  turns  aside  to  consult  with  his  chiefs; 

Marquette  makes  a  sign  to  two  of  his  followers,  who 

go  off;  he  then  turns  to  JoUiet,  leaning  heavily  on  his 

arm  as  he  speaks.] 

Louis,  my  friend,  I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my 

journey.     Thou  shalt  leave  me  here.     I  have 

loved  thee  well,  and  while  yet  I  live,  thy  name 

shall  not  fail  from  my  prayers. 

JOLLIET 

While  yet  thou  livest?     What  does  that  mean, 
father? 

MARQUETTE 
We  have  passed  over  many  streams,  and  many 
portages.  We  have  seen  the  Great  River,  and 
the  pictured  rocks,  and  the  lake  of  the  Ilhnois. 
No  other  Frenchman  has  seen  them.  Behold, 
how  great  a  field  for  the  Church,  how  wide  a 
domain  for  the  Cross.  Louis,  I  have  before  me 
the  task  of  my  destiny,  and  I  must  not  shrink. 

JOLLIET 

Nor  do  I  shrink,  Father.     I  will  stay  with  thee. 

MARQUETTE 
Nay,  my  son.  I  have  seen  thine  eyes  wet  when 
our  carriers  sang  their  songs  of  France.  I  have 
seen  thee  wistful,  even  to  tears,  when  we  have 
spoken  of  Quebec,  the  home  thou  didst  leave  to 
come  with  me.  Thou  shalt  go  on.  I  will  re- 
main.    It  is  only  for  a  httle  while. 

JOLLIET 

It  is  true,  I  have  longed  for  home. 

21 


]\1ARQUETTE 
I  have  known  it,  my  son. 

SACHEM 
[Coming  forward  again.] 
Black  Gown,  dost  thou  refuse  the  weapons  to  me 
and  my  people? 

MARQUETTE 

[Going  back  to  his  carriers,  who  have  brought  in 
a  white  birch  cross.] 
My  children,  I  have  for  you  no  weapons.     I  desire 
that  you  shall  live  at  peace  mth  the  Miamis, 
and  the  Iroquois,  and  all  the  forest  people. 

SACHEM 

Then  I  and  my  tribes  are  to  be  slain,  and  thou 
wilt  do  nought  to  help  us  ? 

MARQUETTE 
I  will  bring  my  faith,  as  my  brothers  have  taken 

it  to  the  INIiamis. 

[A  threatening  murmur  rises  among  the  Indians.] 

SACHEM 
And  will  thy  faith  shield  us  from  our  foes? 

MARQUETTE 
Yea,  truly  it  will,  for  it  is  the  faith  of  peace,  and 
love.     Behold,  here  I  set  up  this  cross  for  a  sign. 

SACHEM 
The  rains  will  rot  it  down,  and  the  snow  will  cover 
it. 

22 


MARQUETTE 
Not  so,  for  it  shall  be  in  your  hearts. 

SACHEM 
Thy  medicine,  Black  Gown,  is  as  dust  upon  the 
wind.     We  wish  to  know  thee  and  thy  Manitou ; 
we  are  ready  to  be  thy  children;   and  thou 
offerest  us  a  sign  of  birch  wood. 

MARQUETTE 
I  bring-  you  more  than  a  sign,  for  I  bring  you 
truth.  I  will  teach  you  of  the  life  that  dies  not, 
and  of  the  true  God,  and  of  the  Holy  Church ;  I 
will  teach  you  of  the  creation,  and  the  redemxp- 
tion,  and  of  the  Blessed  Virgin ;  I  will  make  plain 
to  you  the  law  of  Christ,  which  is  the  law  of 
love.  Kneel  down,  all  you  who  seek  the  truth. 
Here  I  set  the  Cross,  and  here,  wliile  I  may,  I 
will  abide. 

[The  Frenchmen  kneel,  then  the  Indians,  slowly,  as 
the  light  fades;  at  last  only  Marquette  and  the  Great 
Sachem  are  left  standing;  then  the  Sachem  kneels, 
and  darkness  falls  upon  the  scene.] 


SCENE  THREE 

[The  place  is  still  the  village  of  the  Illinois,  ten 
years  later.  The  scene  is  a  composite  of  incidents  in 
Parkman's  "La  Salle";  its  special  significance  lies  in 
the  formal  claiming  of  the  land  in  the  name  of  the 
French  King,  here  somewhat  arbitrarily  used,  though 
the  ceremonial  took  place  at  various  points  in  the 
Mississippi  Valley.] 

CHARACTERS 

Eobert  Cavalier  de  la  Salle Julian  Smith 

Henri  de  Tonty Louis  P.  Zerweck 

Friar  Hennepin Frank  C.  Hipplar 

Friar  Membre Edward  Kohl 

A  Mutineer,  Jolycoeur Preston  K.  Johnson 

Nicanope,  A  Chief Frank  Severit 

An  Indian  Princess Melba  Hoerner 

A  Mohegan  Hunter LeRoy  Wehrle 

FRENCHMEN,    FOLLOWERS    OF    LA    SALLE    AND 
TONTY 

Marshal  Glueck  Fred  Blum 

Len  Reinhardt  Oliver  Hartnagel 

Joseph  Falk  Cornelius  Grosspitch 

Harry  Zerweck  Harry  Pilkington 

Ralph  Winkelman  Isadore  Schanuel 

Joseph  Peskind  Ray  Laubner 

William  Stahlheber  Othmar  Fellner 
William  Schulte 

24 


INDIANS 


William  Arey 
Chas  Brown 
Henry  Wilson 
John  Wiecking 
Joseph  Jacobeck 
Adam  Rauth 
Emil  Keller 
James  Kais 
Rudolph  G^rth 
Edward  Cloud 


Cleola  Bleser 
Anna  Pessel 
Mary  Meng 
Pauline  Halbert 
Grace  Wilderman 
Theresa  Gaerdner 
Maud  Underwood 
Louise  Guy 


Nancy  Ittner 
Dorothy  Stookey 
Ruth  Bertram 
Georgia  Hilgard 
Dorothy  Beck 
Elsie  Jean  Huggins 
Virginia  Renner 
Ruth  Aull 
Marjorie  Rentchler 
Marie  Becker 
Janise  Rentchler 
Edward  Abend 
Lester  Totch 


Herman  Kohl 
Jacob  Gross 
Edward  Skrabel 
Ralph  Williams 
Harry  Luku 
John  Wainwright 
Jesse  Cloud 
Bert  Gorges 
James  Van  Fleet 


SQUAWS 


Mabel  Bischof 

Lily  Flannagan 
Emma  Saenger 
Lilian  Taphorn 
Lisa  Pithan 
Amelia  Steumagel 
Estella  Hough 
Josie  Baker 


CHILDREN 


Helga  Ebsen 
Anita  Wirsing 
Albert  Mitchel 
Chas  Becker 
Alice  Rentchler 
Clotilda  Pelkus 
Phroso  Bieser 
Catharine  Niemeyer 
Ernst  Hilgard 
Lester  Heineke 
Marjorie  Stanley 
Mitchel  Woodrome 


25 


WHITE   CLOUD 
Peaceful  the  Black  Gown    came;    we    welcomed 

him; 
He  taught  his  faith ;  we  listened  and  we  loved, 
For  he  was  patient,  brave  and  kind.     He  lives 
In  drowsy  annals  of  our  winter  nights. 
But  those  who  followed  in  the  Black  Gown^s  trail 
Brought  harsher  magic  and  hopeless  war. 
Seeking  the  paths  that  we  had  never  trod. 
They  searched  the  blue  horizons  for  some  grim 
And  desolate  issue  to  forbidden  seas ; 
They  spoke  to  us  of  mysteries,  shoulder-wise, 
As  they  with  tireless  footsteps  hastened  on. 
So  the  four  hunters  in  our  mystic  tale 
Pursue  each  year  the  bear  who  never  dies. 
And  stain  the  leaves  of  autumn  with  his  blood 
Till  all  the  oaks  and  maples  flame  with  woe. 
And  the  still  snows  come  down  on  them  like  sleep ; 
But  in  the  spring  the  bear  awakes,  his  wounds 
Healed,  and  the  hunters  take  their  bows  and  strike 
The  chase  that  follows  through  the  fruitless  years. 
La  Salle  and  Tonty  of  the  Iron  Hand, 
Great  Captains  in  this  idle  paleface  quest. 
Came  hither  long  ago  and  claimed  the  ground 
For  some  old  king  beyond  the  sunrise.     These 
Were  strong-heart  men,  these  finders  of  the  way. 
Who  hunted  the  great  rivers  to  their  ends — 
Stern  foes,  whom  fear  could  never  shake.     Behold, 
Wan  Children  of  the  sheltered  lodges,  these 
Who  faced  the  mystery  with  dauntless  eyes 
And  trod  our  trails  out  with  intrepid  feat. 
The  Captains  of  the  v/hite  man's  outer  march. 

26 


[The  place  is  the  same  village;  Tonty  and  his  party 
discovered,  the  others  sleeping,  Tonty  watching  by 
Marquette's  cross.] 

TONTY 

How  strange  a  sei-vice  is  this,  that  I  must  watch 
by  a  Christian  cross  that  was  set  here  in  the 
wilderness  by  our  enemies.  The  wood  may 
yield  to  us ;  the  rivers  may  give  up  their  secrets ; 
but  the  hatred  of  those  behind  us  will  not  abate. 
My  Captain,  this  is  a  great  endeavor,  and  we 
have  fought  hard  in  it,  but  the  battle  is  not  won. 
Little  men  bark  at  your  heels  for  a  few  beaver 
pelts,  while  you  look  forward  to  see  an  empire. 
So  be  it.  La  Salle.     Your  vision  is  mine. 

[Enter  an  Indian  Girl,  Chief  Omawha's  daughter.] 

THE  GIRL 

[Enter  an  Indian  Girl,  Chief  Omawha's  daughter.] 
Iron  Hand. 

TONTY 
Princess. 

THE  GIRL 
Man  with  the  iron  hand,  I  have  this  to  tell  you. 
Turn  back,  for  you  and  your  chief  are  betrayed. 

TONTY 

My  chief  never  turns  back. 

THE  GIRL 

You  must  all  die  if  you  go  on.  There  has  been 
council  talk  in  the  dark. 

27 


TONTY 

Tell  me  of  this  council  talk. 

THE  GIRL 

The  Miami,  Monso,  came  last  night.  He  spoke 
long  with  our  old  men.  He  brought  presents 
from  the  Mascoutens  and  the  Miamis.  He  said 
the  Sieur  de  la  Salle  would  break  our  tribe  in  his 
hand  if  our  people  let  him  pass.  He  said  that 
you  are  all  spies  of  the  Iroquois.  Turn  back, 
Man-with-the-Hand-of-Iron,  or  our  chiefs  will 
slay  you  all.     I  have  spoken. 

TONTY 

This  is  girl's  talk. 

THE  GIRL 
This  is  true  talk.  Iron  Hand. 

[She  starts  away  from  him.] 

TONTY 

Stop,  Princess,  and  tell  me  why? She's  gone! 

[She  runs  out,  and  is  lost  to  sight.  It  is  now  dawn, 
and  the  village  is  waking  up.  Tonty  turns  to  arouse 
his  followers.] 

TONTY 

Rouse  yourself,  Jolycoeur.     The  Sieur  de  la  Salle 
will  soon  be  here  from  the  portage. 

JOLYCOEUR 

Who  was  that  speaking  with  you,  Tonty? 

TONTY 

A  young  squaw. 

28 


JOLYCOEUR 
So  it  is  not  so  lonely  for  you  on  the  watch,  eh? 
The  young  women  come  out  in  the  dawn  to  keep 
you  company. 

TONTY 

She  came  in  a  matter  concerning  you,  Jolycoeur. 

JOLYCOEUR 
Concerning  me  ?  What  did  the  young  woman  want 
with  me  ? 

TONTY 

She  wanted  to  buy  you,  knowing  you  were  good  for 
nothing  to  me,  to  keep  the  dogs  away  from  her 
children. 

JOLYCOEUR 
Tonty,  I  am  not  one  to  endure  insult  forever. 

TONTY 

No,  Jolycoeur.  You  have  threatened  much.  I 
have  not  slept.  I  have  heard  your  complaints, 
and  your  treasons — heard  them  long  enough. 
I  know  you  have  dealt  too  much  with  our  foes. 
I  say  nothing  to  Monsieur  de  la  Salle,  but  I 
warn  you.     That  is  all. 

[Enter  the  Mohegan  Hunter.] 

What  word,  Mohegan? 

THE  MOHEGAN 
Monsieur  de  la  Salle  is  come.  Iron  Hand. 

29 


TONTY 

Fall  in  line,  men. 

[The  Frenchmen  of  Tonty's  party  are  drawn  up  in 

a   line.     The   Indians   of   the   village   gather   around 

Nicanope  and  the  other  chiefs,  to  see  the  new  arrivals. 

Enter  La  Salle,  followed  by  Hennepin  and  the  men 

of  his  party.] 

THE  MEN  OF  TONTY'S  PARTY 

[Cheering  ironically.] 

Welcome  to  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle ! 

[The  men  of  La  Salle's  party  start  to  cheer  also,  but 
he  stills  them,  saluting  the  others  coldly;  he  then 
goes  over  to  Tonty,  laying  a  hand  on  his  shoulder.] 

LA  SALLE 
All  has  been  well  with  you,  Tonty  ? 

TONTY 

All  has  been  well,  my  Captain. 

LA  SALLE 
I  thank  God  for  that. 

TONTY 
I  have  information  for  you.     Let  me  give  it  be- 
fore you  meet  the  council. 

[La  Salle  and  Tonty  walk  aside,  talking  in  a  low 
tone. 

Father  Hennepin  approaches  Father  Membre,  who 
has  been  one  of  Tonty's  party.] 

HENNEPIN 

Brother,  I  pray  you,  tell  me  all  the  marvelous 

adventures  you  have  endured  since  you  came 

here,  that  I  may  set  them  down  in  my  record. 

30 


MEMBRE 
In  sober  truth,  brother,  we  have  endured  none. 

HENNEPIN 
I  can  not  beheve  it — that  you  have  been  all  winter 
in  this  unkown  wilderness,  and  have  seen  nc 
strange  sights,  rejoiced  in  no  new  perils. 

MEMBRE 
Nothing  strange  or  new.  We  have  been  hungry. 
We  have  maintained  life  in  a  village  of  savages 
who  hate  us.  We  have  baptized  four  children 
and  one  old  woman.  Some  of  our  comrades 
have  left  us,  stealing  our  arms  and  our  food 
from  us.  We  have  seen  the  children  of  the  Evil 
One  at  play  around  us. 

[Hennepin  begins  to  write.] 

But  no  adventure — nothing  strange  or  new.  What 
do  you  write,  brother  ? 

HENNEPIN 

[Reading.] 

"Father  Membre,  a  priest  of  unquestioned 
veracity,  told  me  many  curious  adventures 
which  befell  the  men  of  Tonty's  command  while 
in  the  wilderness  of  the  IlUnois;  and  in  parti- 
cular of  a  dance  of  golden  devils,  up  and  down 
over  the  house  tops  of  the  savages,  which  he 
saw  conjured  by  the  evil  powers  or  an  Indian 
magician." 

MEMBRE 

Brother,  this  is  most  unworthy — this  writing  of 
follies  and  lies. 

31 


HENNEPIN 

[Still  writing  and  reading.] 
"When  my  party  came  to  their  rescue,  Tonty's 
command  had  been  greatly  reduced  by  death 
and  desertions.  We  found  them  intrenched  up- 
on a  great  rock,  and  subsisting  upon  the  leaves 
and  bark  of  trees/' 

MEMBRE 
Intrenched  upon  a  great  rock? 

HENNEPIN 

Surely — the  great  rock  at  the  turn  of  the  river, 
some  days  paddling  above.  We  marked  it  as 
we  passed. 

MEMBRE 

And  what  is  it,  brother,  that  you  write  ? 

HENNEPIN 

The  true  history  of  my  adventures  in  this  great 
wilderness. 

MEMBRE 
And  why  do  you  make  this  relation  ? 

HENNEPIN 
Because,  brother,  from  my  childhood  I  have  loved 
more  than  anything  the  tales  of  travelers  and 
seamen.  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  spent  my  days 
among  the  inns  where  sailors  recount  their  voy- 
ages, listening,  Ustening,  listening.  I  too  have 
endured  hunger,  for  this.  I  have  sickened  at 
the  smoke  and  smells  of  the  quays,  but  I  have 
32 


soared  at  the  thought  of  the  brave  tales  I  have 
heard  there  ....  You  would  not  un- 
derstand it. 

MEMBRE 
But  if  you  love  tales  of  true  deeds,  why  do  you 
write  all  this  which  is  not  true  ? 

HENNEPIN 
Brother,  you  are  most  unjust.  You  tell  me  that 
you  have  hungered,  that  you  have  seen  the  play 
of  devils  around  you,  that  you  have  maintained 
Ufe  against  the  savages.  I  set  all  this  down, 
in  my  own  way,  and  you  complain  because  you 
are  not  on  a  chff  I  have  chosen  for  you.  The  chff 
exists.  It  is  as  true  as  holy  scripture.  You  are 
not  intrenched  upon  it,  I  admit,  but  that  is  your 
captain's  fault,  not  mine.  I  pray  you,  pardon 
me.     I  must  continue  my  history. 

[The    circle   for   the   council    is    now   formed,   and 
Nicanope,  the  Illinois  chief,  rises.] 

NICANOPE 

My  Father,  it  is  not  alone  that  we  may  feast  to- 
gether that  we  meet  here  in  our  village.  You 
have  said  that  you  wish  to  go  down  our  river, 
and  even  to  the  end  of  the  Great  River.  You 
have  given  us  presents,  and  we  love  you.  So 
we  tell  you,  this  is  not  to  be  done.  For  the 
Great  River  Mississippi  belongs  to  the  evil 
Manitous;  in  its  waters  are  terrible  sei-pents, 
and  on  its  shores  are  tribes  that  let  none  pass, 
but  take  all  who  travel  that  way,  and  devour 
33 


them.  And  if  by  your  great  valor  you  escape  the 
serpents  and  the  shore  clans,  you  will  at  last  be 
swept  into  a  mighty  waterfall,  which  plunges 
downward  into  a  gulf  too  deep  to  be  measured, 
do  not  go,  my  father,  but  turn  back.  The  Great 
Manitou,  the  Master  of  Life,  forbids  it. 

LA  SALLE 
My  children,  only  yesterday  you  promised  Iron 
Hand  that  you  would  help  me  to  go  down  the 
Great  River.     Have  the  serpents  and  the  water- 
fall come  up  in  the  night? 

NICANOPE 

Yesterday,  my  father,  we  did  not  know. 

LA  SALLE 
We  thank  you  for  this  friendly  warning.  But  we 
were  not  asleep  last  night  when  Monso  came  to 
tell  you  that  we  were  spies  of  the  Iroquois.  The 
presents  he  gave  you  are  buried  under  your 
council  lodge.  If  he  told  you  the  truth,  why  did 
he  skulk  away  in  the  dark?  If  you  are  our 
friends,  our  children,  as  you  say,  go  after  this 
Monso  and  bring  him  back,  that  he  may  look  me 
in  the  face.  For  I  tell  you  openly  that  I  will  not 
turn  back,  now  nor  hereafter. 

[The  chiefs,  confused  by  his  knowledge,  gather 
around  Nicanope.  Jolycoeur  steps  forward  from  the 
group  of  Frenchmen  and  addresses  La  Salle.] 

JOLYCOEUR 
These  are  brave  words.  Monsieur  de  la  Salle,  but 
they  are  foolhardy  as  well.  We  believe  what  the 
34 


chiefs  have  told  us  of  this  river,  and  we  can  not 
find  it  in  our  hearts  to  go  forward. 

LA  SALLE 
You  shall  find  it  in  your  hearts  to  go  where  I  bid 
you. 

JOLYCOEUR 

Monsieur  de  la  Salle  mistakes  my  meaning.  He 
is  a  trader  here,  not  a  king.  There  are  other 
traders  on  these  trails.  We  are  within  our 
rights. 

[Some  of  the  men  gather  behind  Jolycoeur.] 

LA  SALLE 
So?  You  have  been  corrupted  by  my  foes — by 
the  nameless  thieves  who  hide  in  these  forests 
and  trade  outside  the  law.  I  command  you  in 
this  wilderness  by  right  of  my  commission,  by 
edict  of  His  Majesty. 

JOLYCOEUR 

But  this  is  no  part  of  the  King's  domain.  We  are 
free  here.     We  will  not  go  on. 

LA  SALLE 
Do  you  knov/  that  this  is  mutiny  and  treason  ? 

JOLYCOEUR 
I  know  we  can  not  march  forward  to  our  certain 
death,  merely  to  please  you,  Monsieur.     This 
is  the  wilderness  of  the  IlHnois,  not  the  parade 
ground  of  Fort  Frontenac. 

35 


LA  SALLE 
When  you  rebel  against  my  authority,  you  must 
take  your  chance  against  me.  As  for  the  King's 
right,  I  will  prove  you  that. 

JOLYCOEUR 
If  I  must  be  your  enemy,  so  be  it.    I  am  not  alone. 

[The  men  behind  him  nod  assent.] 

LA  SALLE 

Are  there  no  faithful  men? 

[Tonty  and  Hennepin  step  forward  beside  him.] 

TONTY 

You  still  have  friends,  my  Captain. 

LA  SALLE 
Here,  then,  is  my  answer.     I  claim  this  land  for 
the  King.     I  speak  as  Saint  Lusson  spoke  at 
Sault  Ste.  Marie,  and  loyal  men  will  hear  me  to 
the  end. 

[He  draws  his  sword  and  steps  forward,  repeating 
solemnly  the  Proces  Verbal  de  la  Prise  de  Posses- 
sion.] 
In  the  name  of  the  Most  High,  Mighty  and  Re- 
doubted Monarch,  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  Most 
Christian  King  of  France  and  Navarre,  I  take 
possession  of  this  land  of  the  Illinois,  and  of  all 
countries,  rivers,  lakes  and  streams  adjacent 
thereunto;  both  those  which  have  been  dis- 
covered and  those  which  shall  be  discovered 
hereafter,  from  the  seas    of    the    North    and 
West  to  the  South  Sea;  declaring  to  the  nations 
thereof  that  they  are  vassals  of  His  Majesty, 
36 


and  bound  to  obey  his  laws ;  and  I  promise  them, 
on  his  part,  protection  against  the  invasions 
of  his  enemies.  I  bind  all  his  subjects  in  this 
dominion  to  his  laws,  and  to  the  authority  of 
those  who  govern  in  his  name,  on  pain  of  in- 
curring treason  against  His  Most  Christian  Maj- 
esty. And  I  warn  all  others  against  seizure  and 
infringement,  on  pain  of  incurring  his  resent- 
ment and  the  efforts  of  his  arms.  Vive  le  Roi ! 
[Hennepin  and  Tonty,  who  have  knelt  during  this 
speech,  rise,  shouting.] 

HENNEPIN  AND  TONTY 
Vive  le  Roi ! 

[Most  of  the  men  break  away  from  Jolycoeur  and 
swing  over  to  La  Salle.] 

THE  LOYAL  MEN 
Vive  le  Roi! 

LA  SALLE 

Forward ! 

[Jolycoeur  and  his  mutineers  persist  for  a  moment, 
gazing  at  La  Salle;  then  their  heads  drop,  and  they 
return  to  their  packs. 

Exeunt  La  Salle  and  entire  party  of  Frenchmen,  La 
Salle  and  Tonty  going  last.  As  they  disappear,  two 
figures  stand  clear  of  the  passive  Indian  group,  Nica- 
nope,  and  the  girl,  Omawha's  daughter.  As  the  lights 
fade,  she  follows  to  the  center  of  the  stage,  looking 
after  Tonty;  stands  for  a  moment,  irresolute;  then 
goes  slowly  back  to  the  lodge.  The  light  fades  from 
the  scene.] 


37 


SCENE  FOUR 

[Pontiac,  failing  in  his  war  upon  the  eastern  garri- 
sons, came  West  in  1765  to  enlist  the  tribes  against 
the  English.  He  still  had  hopes  of  French  assistance, 
and  was  to  the  last  angry  and  incredulous,  refusing  to 
believe  that  the  French  dominion  was  over.  The  epi- 
sode marks  a  turning  point  in  the  history  of  Illinois, 
since  it  is  directly  concerned  with  the  cession  of  the 
land  from  France  to  England;  it  is  suggested  by 
Parkman  in  his  "Conspiracy  of  Pontiac."] 

CHARACTERS 

Pontiac Curt  Heinfelden 

Chief  of  Illinois Curt  Busiek 

An  Old  Chief Chas.  D.  Wagner 

Neyon,  the  French  Commandant Irwin  Wagner 

FRENCH  ESCORT    OF    NEYON 
Dwight  Harper  Eugene  Powell 

Harold  Ward  Lois  Graner 

Benjamin  Flannagan  Gustav  Rauth 

Joseph  Gardner  ..John  Conrad 

Russell  Schott  Harold  Anderson 

Fred  Barbeau  Elmer  Merz 

INDIANS    (SAME   AS   IN    SCENE    THREE) 

WHITE  CLOUD 
So  cold  this  Captain  was,  La  Salle,  who  burned 

38 


In  secret  with  indomitable  flame. 

Our  people  knew,  for  we  could  understand 

A  heart  that  never  showed  how  deep  its  wounds, 

How  grave  its  causes — we,  the  red  folk,  knew. 

But  there  were  little  men  of  his  own  clan 

Whose  hate  could  never  sleep.     They  tracked  him 

down. 
And  after  him  the  Winters  and  the  Springs 
Danced  round  the  camp-fire  of  the  shifting  sun ; 
And  braves,  just  come  of  age  to  hunt  and  woo 
When  Tonty  of  the  Iron  Hand  was  here. 
Grew  old,  and  sage,  and  died  at  last  of  years 
Before  another  chieftain  lived  whom  I, 
The  Prophet,  raise  to  honor  with  my  spells ; 
And  when  he  came,  he  was  an  Ottawa, 
A  man  of  mine  own  race,  who  loved  his  land 
And  dared  to  battle  with  the  robbers  twain, 
England  and  France,  who  bargained,  field  by  field, 
Our  ancient  hunting  grounds  away.     This  chief 
Was  Pontiac,  the  last  of  our  high  sachems. 
And  even  now  I  hear  his  drums  resound. 
See  his  great  war-belt  swinging  in  the  lodge, 
And  answer,  in  my  heart,  his  dauntless  call. 

[The  place  is  the  same,  the  Indians  gathered  in 
council. 

Enter  Pontiac,  with  some  of  his  people;  the  calumets 
are  exchanged  with  ceremony.] 

PONTIAC 

My  children,  as  I  have  spoken  before,  so  now  I 

speak.     This  war  is  for  the  lives  of  our  people, 

and  the  land  which  the  Giver  of  Light  made  for 

our  heritage.     Listen  to  my  speech,  which  is 

39 


true  talk.  The  English  say  the  French  have 
given  them  the  land.  But  this  could  never  be, 
since  we  have  never  sold  our  land.  My  children, 
our  father,  the  French  King,  sleeps,  and  the 
English  have  seized  his  forts  and  his  houses. 
But  when  the  French  King  wakes — what  then  ? 

AN  ILLINOIS  CHIEF 
We  have  heard  all  this,  Pontiac.    We  own  the 
land.     We  hate  the  English.     But  the  EngHsh 
are  very  strong.    What  do  you  require  of  us. 

PONTIAC 
First,  I  give  you  these  presents,  that  you  may 
know  my  friendship. 

[Pontiac's  people  bring  forward  presents,  and 
among  other  things,  a  cask  of  brandy.] 
I  require  of  you  now  some  swift  and  true  mes- 
sengers, that  I  may  send  this  belt  to  call  to- 
gether my  people.  Behold,  in  it  are  woven  the 
totems  of  all  my  tribes  and  all  my  villages. 
Your  messengers  shall  carry  this,  with  my  war 
call. 

[Two  Indians,  chosen  by  the  Chief,  cast  aside  their 
blankets  and  stand  before  Pontiac] 

PONTIAC 
Take  now  my  great  war-belt,  and  go  down  your 
river,  and  down  the  Mississippi ;  wherever  there 
is  smoke  of  a  village,  stop  and  carry  my  word. 
Say  that  I,  Pontiac,  will  drive  back  the  English 
from  the  North  and  the  East,  and  let  them  hold 
those  who  come  from  the  South.     Let  the  rivers 

40 


be  closed.  Let  no  canoe  of  the  English  pass, 
but  sink  it  with  lead  and  with  arrows.  I  have 
spoken.  You,  who  carry  my  war-belt,  be  faith- 
ful. 

[The  messengers  run  off,  carrying  the  great  war- 
belt.] 

THE  CHIEF 

We  have  given  you  messengers,  brother,  but  our 
warriors  can  not  help  you  in  the  East  and  the 
North.  We  are  peaceful  folk,  and  our  harvests 
have  been  poor,  and  our  strength  wanes.  We 
can  not  war  against  the  English. 

PONTIAC 
Then  I  will  bring  upon  you  my  Ottawas,  and  the 
Miamis,  and  the  Iroquois — all  those  who  have 
hated  you.  I  will  bum  up  your  people  and  your 
tepees,  as  the  fire  eats  the  dried  grass  of  the 
prairies. 

[There  is  a  movement  of  unrest  among  the  Illinois; 
one  of  Pontiac's  men  starts  to  beat  a  drum,  others  to 
lay  aside  their  blankets.] 

AN  OLD  CHIEF 
Our  father,  the  commander  of  the  French,  will 
soon  be  here.     Let  us  speak  in  peace  until  he 
comes. 

PONTIAC 
My  father,  the  French  King,  will  help  me  when  I 
am  ready.     I  will  not  wait.     Now,  my  warriors, 
let  the  war  song  begin. 
[He  turns  to  the  Illinois.] 

41 


And  if  you  fail  me,  you  shall  surely  die. 

[The  Indian  with  the  drum  seats  himself  on  the 
ground  and  begins  beating  it.  His  people  throw  off 
their  blankets  and  prepare  for  the  war-dance.  The 
cask  of  brandy  is  broached,  and  the  Illinois  crowd 
around  it,  drinking.  The  murmur  of  the  rising  war 
song  is  heard.  As  the  dance  starts,  another  drum 
is  heard,  a  drum  to  which  French  troops  are  march- 
ing. 

Enter  Neyon  de  Villiers,  the  French  Commandant, 
with  a  guard.  Pontiac  proffers  him  a  belt  of  wam- 
pum.] 

PONTIAC 
Father,  with  this  belt  I  open  your  ears,  that  you 
may  hear.  I  bring  you  this  war-belt  that  you 
may  know  I  have  not  forgotten  to  hate  the 
enemies  of  the  French;  that  you  may  know  I 
have  not  forgotten  the  black  cloud  which  is  over 
us  all.  I  ask  you,  for  the  last  time,  to  aid  us 
against  the  Enghsh.  Or,  if  you  will  not  do 
this,  give  us  powder  and  lead,  and  we  will  raise 
the  hatchet  alone.  For  we  know  that  the  French 
King  i-s  old,  and  has  slept,  but  is  now  awake 
again.  And  now  we  shall  sweep  the  English 
from  our  lands. 

NEYON 

Pontiac,  our  hands  are  tied.  Our  father,  the 
French  King,  has  forbidden  us  to  injure  the 
Enghsh.  With  this  paper  he  has  forbidden  us, 
and  we  dare  not  disobey.  If  you  and  your 
tribes  are  wise,  you  will  cease  this  warfare,  and 
bury  your  hatchet  forever,  since  our  father,  the 

42 


King  of  the  French,  has  given  this  land  to  the 
English. 

PONTIAC 

Your  father,  the  French  King,  could  not  give  our 
lands.     He  did  not  own  our  lands. 

NEYON 

With  this  paper  our  hands  are  tied.  Untie  this 
knot  and  we  will  aid  you. 

PONTIAC 

You  tell  me  the  French  King  has  yielded  to  the 
Enghsh — that  his  scalp  hangs  in  their  lodge? 
Yet  you  hold  in  your  hands  my  war-belt. 

NEYON 
I   give   you   back   your   war-belt.     Pontiac,    our 
friendship  is  over ! 

[He  flings  down  the  belt.] 

PONTIAC 
I,  too,  here  drop  from  my  hands  the  chain  of  our 
friendship.  Take  my  defiance.  Frenchman. 
Against  you,  as  against  the  English,  my  people 
will  fight  forever.  This  belt  you  have  scorned ; 
but  I  have  sent  from  me  another,  woven  with 
the  totems  of  seven  and  forty  tribes.  By  that 
belt  I  defy  you — I  and  all  my  warriors ! 

[During  the  last  speeches,  the  Indians  have  been 
crowding  around  the  brandy-cask,  behind  Pontiac.  At 
the  last  words,  he  draws  himself  up  by  the  cask. 
Neyon  gives  a  quick  order  to  his  men,  and  leads  them 

43 


off.  The  Illinois  chief,  from  the  group  around  the 
barrel,  lurches  forward,  clings  to  Pontiac,  and  falls  at 
his  feet.  Pontiac  stares  for  a  moment  at  the  figure 
on  the  ground  before  him,  turns  to  the  group,  and 
throws  up  his  hand  for  attention.  The  Indians  break 
into  yells  and  laughter  and  rush  off  in  the  opposite 
direction  to  that  which  Neyon  has  taken.  Pontiac 
lays  his  hand  on  the  cask.  It  is  empty.  He  lifts  it 
above  his  head  and  hurls  it  from  him. 

The  lights  disappear,  and  in  the  gloom  the  Indians 
remove  their  encampment.] 


44 


SCENE  FIVE 

[The  post  of  Kaskaskia  was  taken  by  George  Rogers 
Clark  in  1778.  The  episode  as  presented  follows  the 
tradition  of  Major  Denny's  Memoirs,  rather  than  the 
literal  history  of  the  event,  in  that  the  entry  of  Clark 
upon  the  Habitant's  ball  is  enacted.  The  essential 
part  of  the  scene,  historically  considered,  is  to  be 
found  in  Clark's  interview  with  Pere  Gibault,  and 
this  is  played  in  accordance  with  the  facts.  While 
Clark  merely  claimed  the  territory  for  Virginia,  it 
was  by  virtue  of  his  possession  of  it  that  it  was  finally 
ceded  to  the  United  States.  Soon  after  this  time 
Clark  sent  Bowman  to  take  Cahokia. 


CHARACTERS 

George  Rogers  Clark Wm.  A.  Hough 

Captain  Rocheblave Charles  Mullen 

Pere  Gibault David  Thomas 

Mr.  Raycliff,  a  Traveler Ralph  Hertzler 

French  Gentleman Irwin  Wagner 

A  Young  Lady Dorothy  Needles 

Madame  Rocheblave Jane  Mullen 

An  Indian Chas.  D.  Wagner 

The  Fiddler Louis  Kaltwasser 

Clark's  Drummer  Boy John  Thompson 

A  Courier Kirby  Ogle 

Right  Provost Fred  Merrills 

Left  Provost Bernard  Coggan 

45 


Louie  Guy 
Cleola  Bieser 

Estelle  Ittner 
Grace  Knobeloch 


Richard  Knoebel 
Clemens  Gundlach 
Francis  Winans 
Hubert  Funsch 
Irwin  Dunck 
Walton  Marsh 


SQUAWS 

Maud  Underwood 
Josie  Baker 
FRENCH   PEASANTS 
Myrtle  Andel 
Selma  Heineman 
Mable  Schrader 
CLARK'S    MEN 

Aug.  Chenot 
John  Theis 
Edward  Schmidt 
Geo.   Florreich 
Walter   Dahm 
Walter  Reisbich 
Ernst  Weber 
DANCERS  OF  GAVOTTE 


Mildred  Woelk 
Will  Reichert 
Corinne  Rudolph 
Edmund  Bechtold 
Dorothy  Needles 
Irwin  Wagner 
Josephine  Portuondo 
Cecil  Conroy 
Alice  Day 
Ralph  Herzler 


Edna  Rentchler 
Henry  Rentchler 
Celia  Gundlach 
Arthur  Wiechert 
Matilda  Muendlein 
Albert  Heinemann 
Hedwig  Wangelin 
Elmer  Baldus 
Nanon  Fischer 
Clemens  Fischer 


ESCORT   OF   ROCHEBLAVE 


Dwight  Harper 
Harold  Ward 
Joseph  Gardner 
Benjamin  Flannagan 


Fred  Barbeau 
Lois  Granner 
Eugene  Powell 
Russell  Schott 


WHITE  CLOUD 
Now  let  the  moons  change  swiftly,  and  the  Springs 
Scatter  the  snows  with  their  returning  feet. 
And  let  the  years  depart;  I  mourn  them  not. 
Here,  on  this  bitter  earth,  beside  this  trail, 
Great  Pontiac  died ;  and  for  his  mighty  life 
A  vengeance  fell  upon  the  Illinois ; 

46 


Keener  than  prairie  winds  it  licked  them  up, 
And  all  their  treasons  passed,  like  scalps  that  hang 
Unprized  amid  the  tepee's  dust  and  smoke ; 
For  Pontiac,  though  his  war-belt  fell  apart, 
And  in  his  death  was  nothing  glorious, 
Loved  well  his  land  and  folk,  and  hated  well 
The  spoilers  of  his  nation.     Peace  to  h!m, 
And  fortunate  hunting  in  the  woods  of  Death. 
The  Frenchmen  passed.     They  were  our  friends 

and  brothers; 
The  EngHsh  followed,  and  were  foes  to  us ; 
And  last  the  Long  Knives,  folk  we  never  knew% 
And  never  loved,  and  never  understood. 
These  Long  Knives,  kingless,  driving  men — be- 
hold 
How  first  they  came,  with  Clark  in  the  still  night, 
And  how  they  laid  new^  laws  upon  the  land, 
And  reared  their  cities  where  the  red  deer  browsed 
Before  the  Master  of  Life  went  back  to  sleep 
And  our  Great  Spirit  ceased  to  hear  our  prayers. 

[The  place  is  Kaskaskia,  a  grove  in  the  village 
where  a  dance  is  about  to  take  place.  Laughing 
groups  of  habitants  come  in  with  flowers  to  decorate 
the  scene;  they  place  benches  at  left  and  right,  and  a 
floral  arch  or  doorway  at  the  back;  through  this  enter 
two  Provosts  of  the  Ball,  who  are  to  be  masters  of 
ceremony.  The  Provosts  set  to  work  ordering  the 
guests,  the  girls  along  the  left  side  of  the  stage,  the 
men  along  the  right. 

THE  PROVOSTS 

[Dividing  the  party.] 
Pray  you.  Monsieur — pray  you,  mademoiselle — 
etc. 

47 


[Enter  Commandant  Rocheblave,  with  Madame 
Rocheblave  and  a  guest,  a  fashionably  dressed  young 
Englishman.] 

THE  PROVOSTS 

[On  the  Right.] 
Welcome  to  you,  Monsieur  le  Commandant — and 
Madame  le  Commandant.    We  are  honored  sup- 
remely. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Gentlemen,  allow  me  to  present  my  friend,  Mr. 
RaycUff. 

PROVOST   ^ 

We  are  enchanted.     Mr.  Raycliff  is  an  English- 
man? 

RAYCLIFF 

[Bowing.] 
A  traveller.  a 

ROCHEBLAVE 
We  are  all  in  the  EngHsh  service,  Mr.  Raycliff. 
At  your  service. 

PROVOST 

By  your  permission,  Monsieur  le  Commandant, 
the  dance  may  begin  ? 

[Rocheblave  bows,  and  the  Provosts  confer  apart. 
The  Coureur  de  Bois  enters,  and  goes  immediately  to 
Rocheblave.] 

THE  COUREUR 
Captain,  I  beg  to  report. 

48 


ROCHEBLAVE 
Wait  till  the  dance  is  begun.     I  have  a  guest. 

THE  COUREUPw 
It  is  in  haste.     The  Long  Knives  are  up  the  river 
in  force.     They  are  coming  down  upon  us. 

RAYCLIFF 
The  Long  Knives? 

MADAME  ROCHEBLAVE 
The  Americans,  he  means.     We.^i^^i^JehTs  every 
day — it's  very  awkward. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Nonsense — It's  not  possible. 


We^9^0i 


v^^^'' 


COUREUR 
I  have  reported,  Monsieur  le  Commandant.     They 
say  that  Clark  commands  them — Clark  of  Vir- 
ginia. 

[Mr.  Raycliff  is  visibly  alarmed.] 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Be  off,  you'll  alarm  the  ladies. 

[The  Coureur  salutes  and  goes  out.] 

We  no  longer  pay  attention  to  these  tales,  Mr. 
RaycUff. 

[Enter  the  Fiddler,  amid  general  applause.  Roche- 
blave  and  his  guests  take  seats,  while  the  Provosts 
select  the  dancers  for  the  Gavotte.  The  sets  are 
nearly  completed  when  the  Provosts  on  the  right 
selects  a  young  Habitant,  the  one  at  the  left  selecting 
a  young  lady;  the  man  comes  fon^'ard,  but  the  girl 
stands  rebelliously  still.] 

49 


PROVOST 
Pray  you,  Mademoiselle. 

YOUNG   LADY 

No,  Monsieur  le  Provost,  I  will  not  dance. 

PROVOST 

Mademoiselle,  the  gavotte  waits.  Monsieur  at- 
tends. 

YOUNG   LADY 

It  is  not  that  I  have  been  two  years  chosen  queen 
of  the  king's  ball.     It  is  that  I  do  not  choose. 

PROVOST 

This  is  most  unusual,  mademoiselle — most  un- 
usual. 

YOUNG   LADY 

I  do  not  choose  to  dance  with  the  gentleman  you 
have  called.  Besides,  Monsieur  le  Commandant 
has  a  guest.  Do  the  honored  Provosts  know  he 
does  not  wish  to  dance  ? 

PROVOST 

[Speechless  with  rage.] 

Mademoiselle ! 

YOUNG   LADY 

I  have  not  heard  the  Provost's  inquire  of  the 
guest.  I  do  not  know  he  does  not  wish  to 
dance.    Why  not  ask  him?     I  will  wait. 

50 


ROCHEBLAVE 

[Coming  forward.] 

Monsieur  le  Provost,  I  have  a  guest.     May  I  beg 
for  him  the  honor  of  a  dance. 

IMADAME   ROCHEBLAVE 
This  is  most  unusual.     You  create  quite  a  flutter, 
Mr.  RaycHff. 

[Raycliff  bows  low  to  Madame,  and  to  the  Provosts; 
while  he  is  being  presented  to  the  young  lady,  Roche- 
blave  turns  to  the  rejected  partner.] 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Monsieur,  you  place  me  perpetually  in  your  debt. 
I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for 
your  kindness  to  my  guest. 

[The  young  man  bows  and  withdraws,  Rocheblave 
returning  to  Madame.  The  dance  begins.  A  crowd 
has  gathered,  and  the  sides  of  the  stage  are  filled  with 
settlers,  soldiers  and  Indians. 

As  the  dance  progresses,  a  light  far  back  of  the 
stage  discloses  the  shadowy  figures  of  Clark's  men 
creeping  down  over  the  hill. 

Then  Clark  enters,  unobserved;  he  is  in  the  tattered 
uniform  of  a  Virginia  Colonel;  his  boots  are  missing, 
and  he  \v^ars  mocasins.  He  saunters  into  the  scene, 
and  stands  quietly  watching,  across  from  Rocheblave. 
An  Indian  spies  him,  and  darts  out,  standing  an  in- 
stant before  Clark  and  then  running  to  Rocheblave.] 

THE  INDIAN 

The  Long  Knives! 

[The  Coureur  rushes  in  center,  shouting.] 

COUREUR 
The  Americans!    We  are  surrounded,  Captain. 

51 


ROCHEBLAVE 

[Coming  down  to  confront  Clark.] 
Silence.    Who  are  you,  sir? 

CLARK 
Colonel  Clark,  at  your  service. 

[At  the  words,  the  crowd  is  seized  with  terror; 
women  scream,  the  men  shout,  and  in  the  distance 
war  whoops  are  heard.  Raycliff  takes  off  Madame 
Rocheblave,  the  dancers  run  off,  and  the  French 
soldiers  move  up  behind  Rocheblave.] 

ROCHEBLAVE 
By  whose  authority  do  you  come  here  ? 

CLARK 
By  the  authority  of  Patrick  Henry,  Governor  of 
Virginia.     You  are  surrounded.     Captain,  your 
sword. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
Insolence!     Men,  this  gentleman  is  our  prisoner. 
[The  soldiers  start  forward;  Clark  raises  his  hand, 
and  a  detachment  of  his  rangers  rushes  in,  threaten- 
ing the  soldiers  with  rifles.     Rocheblave's  men,  who 
are  unarmed,  fall  back.] 

CLARK 

[With  biting  irony.] 

Gentlemen,  I  pray  you  continue  your  entertain- 
ment. I  speak  for  the  Governor  of  Virginia. 
Monsieur  Rocheblave.  I  must  again  demand 
your  sword. 

ROCHEBLAVE 
I  will  not  surrender  my  garrison  to  your  night 

prowlers.     I  will  not 

52 


CLARK 

Put  that  man  under  guard.     Disarm  him. 

[The  rangers  arrest  and  disarm  Rocheblave.] 

You  have  yet  to  know  the  measure  of  my  severity, 
sir.  I  warn  you,  I  can  show  no  pity.  I'll  know 
whether  we  are  to  be  openly  defied  or  not. 
Search  the  town,  and  bring  me  all  the  Britishers 
you  find.  Let  all  keep  within  their  houses,  on 
pain  of  death,  till  I  order  otherwise. 

ROCHEBLAVE  ' 
T  protest,  sir,  against  this  savage  mode  of  war- 
fare. 

CLARK 
I  am  quite  able  to  care  for  my  part  of  this  busi- 
ness.    Take  him  out. 

[The  habitants  have  all  gone  save  a  few  of  the 
bolder  spirits;  Clark  looks  at  these,  frowning  heavily, 
and  they  slink  away.  When  they  are  gone,  his  ex- 
pression changes;  he  throws  back  his  head,  laughing 
to  himself.  The  Fiddler,  who  has  been  watching  him 
comes  over,  bobs  humbly,  and  offers  his  greeting.] 

FIDDLER 
Monsieur  the  new  Commandant,  I  hope  you  will 
not  forget  me,  when  you  desire  that  there  shall 
be  a  dance,  for  the  people  of  the  post. 

CLARK 

[Genially.] 
I  shall  call  upon  you,  Monsieur. 

[The  Fiddler  loiters  by  the  gate  way. 
Enter,  center,  Pere  Gibault.] 

53 


PERE  GIBAULT 
[Frightened,  but  intent  on  duty.] 
Is  this  the  American  Commander? 

CLARK 

[Severely.] 
I  am  Colonel  Clark,  at  your  service. 

PERE  GIBAULT 

I  am  a  man  of  peace,  Monsieur  le  Commandant, 
and  know  nothing  of  your  war.  I  speak  for  my 
people,  who  are  loyal  subjects.  I  am  called  Pere 
Gibault. 

CLARK 
I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  sir. 

PERE  GIBAULT 

I  have  come  to  speak  for  my  people.  Everywhere 
they  beg  for  their  Uves,  and  the  village  is  mad 
with  fear.  IVIonsieur  le  Commandant,  I  must 
know  what  their  fate  is  to  be.  Are  they  to  be 
slaves  of  the  Americans  ? 

CLARK 

[Suddenly  gracious.] 
You  do  not  understand,  Mr.  Gibault.  We  have 
come  to  free  these  people,  not  to  enslave  them. 
They  are  to  be  citizens,  not  subjects.  Mr. 
Gibault,  ours  is  a  war  for  Uberty,  for  justice.  I 
must  have  order  among  your  people,  but  they 
are  free  now,  as  they  never  were  before. 

54 


PERE  GIBAULT 
And  they  are  not  to  be  driven  from  their  homes  by 
your  "Long  Knives  V 

CLARK 
Certainly  not. 

PERE  GIBAULT 
And  they  are  not  even  to  lose  their  property? 

CLARK 

Not  a  penny. 

PERE  GIBAULT 
Tell  me,  Monsieur  Colonel  Clark,  are  they  to  be 
allowed  to  come  to  worship  as  they  were  ? 

CLARK 
We  have  nothing  to  do  with  churches,  save  to 
defend  them  from  insult.     By  the  laws  of  Vir- 
ginia, your  religion  has  as  great  privileges  as 
any  other. 

PERE  GIBAULT 
Monsieur  Clark,  my  son,  I  am  overwhelmed  at 
your  kindness.     I  am  already,  in  my  heart,  a 
citizen  of  Virginia.     I  must  tell  my  people. 
[He  starts  to  go  out,  but  returns.] 
Though  I  know  nothing  of  the  temporal  business, 
I  can  give  them  some  advice,  in  a  spiritual  way, 
that  shall  be  conducive  to  your  cause.  God  bless 
you.  Colonel  Clark. 

[Exit  Pere  Gibault;  there  is  a  pause,  then  glad  cries 
and  a  sound  of  singing  off  stage.     The  Fiddler,  who 
has  lingered,  now  comes  back  and  approaches  Clark.] 
55 


THE  FIDDLER 

I  see  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  play  to-night. 
Our  people  will  want  music.  I  hear  them  al- 
ready, singing. 

[A  group  of  the  dancers  rushes  gaily  in.] 

CLARK 
You  shall  fiddle  to-night  under  the  flag  of  Vir- 
ginia, sir.     Strike  your  strings. 

[As  he  speaks,  the  townspeople  flock  back,  cheer- 
ing and  exultant;  they  cross  the  stage  and  go  on,  tak- 
ing Clark  with  them  and  the  lights  disappear.] 


56 


SCENE  SIX 

[Outside   the    porch   of   Geo.    Blair's   house. 
Mrs.  Blair  is  sitting  under  the  porch,  churning. 
Mr.  Blair  is  standing  outside,  watching  for  the  ap- 
proach of  the  commissioners.] 

CHARACTERS 

Mr.  Blair E.  S.  Helms 

John  Hay R.   M.   Haj'^s 

Mr.  Lemen Ed.  C.  Roediger 

Mr.   Isaacs Julius    Seib 

Mrs.  Blair Sophie  Rhein 

MRS.  BLAIR 
George,  what  all  are  you  standing  there  and  look- 
ing at? 

BLAIR 

Nothing,  my  dear — nothing  at  all. 

MRS.  BLAIR 
George,  who  are  these  men  out  there  in  the  corn 
field? 

BLAIR 

What  men?     Oh!  those  men.     I  reckon  they're 
the  commissioners. 

57 


MRS.  BLAIR 
Now  look  here,  George  Blair,  you're  keeping  some- 
thing back.    Out  with  it.    Who  are  these  com- 
missioners, and  what  are  they  doing  in  our  corn 
field? 

BLAIR 
Now  my  dear,  how  can  you  imagine  that  I  know 

anything  about  those  commissioners.    They're 

all  perfectly  reprehensible  parties.     There's  Mr. 

Enochs  and  Mr.  Lemen,  the  preacher,  and  John 

Hay  that's  clerk  of  the  Courts. 
MRS.  BLAIR 
I  know  right  well  who  they  are.    What  I  asked 

you  is  what  do  they  want  in  our  corn  field  ?  You 

understand  that  you  are  out  of  politics  don't 

you? 

BLAIR 
Of  course,  I  do,  my  dear. 

MRS.  BLAIR 
You  off  sheriffing  and  gadding  and  talking  and 
never  turning  a  hand ;  I  won't  have  it ! 

BLAIR 
I  understand  that,  my  dear. 

MRS.  BLAIR 
Then  what  do  those  commissioners  want  here? 
I'd  like  to  know. 

BLAIR 
They're  the  commissioners  to  review  the  prospec- 
tive location  for  a  new  jurisprudence. 

58 


MRS.  BLAIR 
Well  they've  got  no  business  trampling  through 
our  com. 

BLAIR 
My  dear,  you  can't  be  inhospitable  to  a  official  dele- 
gation. 

MRS.  BLAIR 

You'll  find  out — they're  coming  over  here. 
BLAIR 

Now  I  hope  you  won't  be  cantankerous. 
MRS.  BLAIR 

I'll  give'em  a  piece  of  my  mind.  Commissioners  I 
wasting  your  time  and  tramping  through  the 
corn  and  jabbering  all  day. 

[Enter   the   five   commissioners.     Mr.    Lemen,    Mr. 
Enoch,  Mr.  Isaacs,  Mr.  Hay  and  Mr.  Hays.] 

BLAIR 
Good  morning,  gentlemen.     My  wife  was  just  re- 
marking how  fortunate  we  are  having  you  all 
in  our  midst,  as  the  saying  goes. 

[Mrs.  Blair  grunts  and  turns  away  from  the  com- 
missioners.    She  listens  attentively,  however.] 

ISAACS 
Mr.  Blair,  we're  here  on  a  matter  of  business  for 

St.  Clair  County.     We've  decided  to  locate . 

you  tell  him,  Mr.  Lemen. 

LEMEN 
Mr.  Blair,  I  need  not  remind  you  that  it  is  the 
duty  of  every  citizen  to  sacrifice  his  own  per- 
59 


sonal  profit  and  convenience  to  the  service  of 
the  whole  congregation — in  this  case  the  whole 
community. 

BLAIR 

[Movin,^  uncomfortably."! 

I  supppose  that's  so,  Mr.  Lemen. 

LEMEN 
Without  question,  sir.     Now,  Mr.  Blair,  in  this 

matter  of  a  new  location  for  the  Courts,  your 

duty 

MRS.  BLAIR 

[Sharply.] 

George ! 

BLAIR 
Yes,  my  dear.     Excuse  me,  gentlemen. 
MRS.  BLAIR 

I'm  here,  that's  all. 

BLAIR 
Yes,  my  dear,  I  understand. 

LEMEN 
To  be  quite  candid,  Mr.  Blair,  this  commission  has 
agreed  on  a  new  location. 

BLAIR 

What's  the  matter  with  Cahokia?  The  court  has 
been  there  since  before  we  were  born.  Why  do 
you  all  want  a  new  location? 

[All  together.] 

LEMEN 
The  danger  of  floods — — 

60 


HAY 

High  water 

ISAACS 
The  French  influence. 

HAY 
And  besides  the  legal  French  they  speak  there  is 
corrupt — a  reflection  on    the    culture    of    the 
county. 

BLAIR 

Well,  gentlemen  ? 

ISAACS 

To  put  it  blunt,  Blair,  we've  decided —  you  tell 
him,  Mr.  Lemen. 

LEMEN 
The  commissioners,  Mr.  Blair,  have  decided  that 
the  best  location  for  the  new  seat  of  justice  is 
here    on    your    place.     And    we've    come    to 
negotiate  with  you  for  the  necessary  land. 

BLAIR 

You  mean  the  county  wants  to  buy  my  farm. 

LEMEN 
I  do  not.     You  will  doubtless  give  the  county  the 
title  to  the  necessary  plat.     It's  your  plain  duty 
as  a  citizen  and  an  ex-sheriff. 

BLAIR 

[Throwing  a  look  at  Mrs.  Blair.     Her  face  is  very  firm.] 
Mr.  Lemen  I  respect  you  cloth,  and  all  that.     Duty 
as  a  citizen  and  all  that — I'm  an  indefensible 
61 


patriot — no  man  more  so.  But  give  you  my 
cornfield  for  a  Court-house  ?    Well  I  reckon  not. 

ISAACS 
But  the  advantages  to  you,  Mr.  Blair — you  explain 
it,  Mr.  Lemen. 

LEMEN 
I  refuse  to  argue  with  Mr.  Blair  on  mercenary  or 
personal  terms. 

HAY 
Very  good,  Mr.  Lemen.     Let  me  present  the  mat- 
ter— there   are   some   things   about   this   you 
haven't  thought  of  Mr.  Blair.     By  your  leave 
Mr.  Lemen.     In  the  first  place,  there's  the  great 

concourse  of  people  to  consider — the  ad  gres. 
sum  populi  — ^have  you  thought  of  that,  Mr. 
Blair. 

BLAIR 
Of  course,  I  have,  Mr.  Hay — ^but  my  cornfield. 

HAY 
I  make  no  base  appeal  in  pecunia  Mr.  Blair.  But 
the  county  seat  will  mean  a  settlement,  and  in  a 
few  yeare  a  thriving  city.  Your  amiable  quaU- 
ties  will  show  to  far  greater  advantage  as  the 
host  of  a  prosperous  tavern  than  as  a  lonely 
farmer,  clear  up  here  on  the  bluffs.  You're 
working  too  hard,  George,  you  know  you  are. 
We're  offering  you  an  opportunity — an  easy  and 
sociable  life. 


BLAIR 
Are  you  sure  there'd  be  a  chance  for  a  tavern 
here  ? 

HAY 

A  chance — it's  a  clear  necessity. 

MRS.  BLAIR 
George  Blair,  you'll  set  up  no  tavern.     You  gas- 
sing   amicable — and    me    doing    thti    work.     I 
reckon  not. 

HAY 

Your  family  would  share  your  good  fortune. 
George — no  doubt  of  that.  The  advantages  in 
a  money  way  would  be  immense.  Mrs.  Blair 
would  enjoy  her  leisure,  I'm  sure.  In  fact, 
George,  I  can't  understand  how  you  can  keep 
your  wife  on  the  farm  when  she  might  sit  in  the 
tavern  parlor  in  silks.  You  will  become  the 
founder  of  the  city  and  your  wife  the  belle  of 
the  sessions. 

BLAIR 

You  put  it  very  grandolinquently,  Mr.  Hay.  I 
shall  of  course  consult  my  wife. 

HAY 

Of  course — of  course.  Blair's  town — lovely  name 
for  a  city. 

BLAIR 

Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  call  it  Blairville,  out 
of  respect  to  the  French  population. 

63 


HAY 

Certainly — certainly. 

[Mrs.  Blair  brings  down  the  churn  dasher  with  a 
bang  and  prepares  to  arise  and  take  a  hand  in  the 
argument.  Blair  starts  violently  at  the  sound.  Then 
a  new  idea  strikes  him.] 

BLAIR 
On  secondary  considerations,  Tve  another  idea. 
I'd  like  to  name  the  town  for  my  wife. 

[She  sits  down  again.] 

HAY 
And  the  French  population? 

BLAIR 

IVe  thought  of  that  too— I'll  call  it  Belleville. 

HAY 

[Grasping  his  hand.] 
Admirable,  George.  Beautiful  name— sure  to  be 
a  beautiful  city.  I  can  see  it  already.  Magni- 
ficent— and  a  fine  tribute  to  a  charming  woman. 
Now  there  only  remains  the  formaUty  of  your 
signature.  Five  acres  for  a  court  house 
square — you  can  spare  that. 

BLAIR 
Five  acres!  Free  gift!     IVIake  it  two,  Mr.  Hay. 

HAY 

Just  as  you  say — though  I'd  be  sorry  to  see  this 
square  too  small  for  the  town.  And  one  other 
item,  George.  The  County  will  be  at  great  ex- 
pense here,  surveying  the  town  and  all  that. 
The  rise  in  real  estate  will  be  enormous.     You 

64 


ought  to  set  aside  twenty-five  acres  to  be  plat- 
ted, and  you  ought  to  give  the  county  two  lots 
in  every  square. 

MRS.  BLAIR 

[Warningly.] 

George. 

BLAIR 

[To   Hay.] 
Certainly  not,  Mr.  Hay.     That's  too  much — far 
too  much. 

HAY 

But  you  own  all  the  rest.  And  you  want  the  city 
of  Belleville  to  look  upon  you  as  a  generous 
founder,  not  as  a  grasping  proprietor. 

MRS.  BLAIR 
George,  give  'em  one  lot  in  each  square — it  won't 
cost  you  anything. 

BLAIR 

I  don't  understand,  my  dear. 

MRS.  BLAIR 

[Marking  on  the  cover  of  the  churn.] 

Let  me  locate  the  lot — that's  all.  I'll  get  even 
with  'em  for  this. 

BLAIR 

On  consultation  with  my  wife,  gentlemen,  I  agree 
to  give  one  lot  in  every  square. 

HAY 
Good.     Now  we  shall  want  conveniences.     What 
about  a  house  to  hold  court  in  ? 
65 


BLAIR 
I  can't  do  anything  about  that. 

HAY 

To  be  sure— you'll  be  getting  your  tavern  ready. 
I'm  afraid  we  shall  have  to  hold  the  next  ses- 
sion in  the  old  place. 

MRS.  BLAIR 
Offer  'em  the  conveniences.    You  may  as  well. 

BLAIR 
But  I  can't  be  raising  a  court  house. 

MRS.  BLAIR 

[Aside  to  Blair.] 
Give  'em  the  corn  crib — the  cornfield  will  be  all 
tramped  down. 

BLAIR 
Very  well,  gentlemen, — I'll  give  you  the  neces- 
sitous   conveniences — small,    I'm    afraid,    but 
substantial. 

HAY 

Very  magnificent  of  you  George,  I'm  sure.  Now 
one  thing  more.  Will  you  be  so  considerate 
as  to  bring  up  the  records  and  the  furnishings 
of  the  Court  in  time  for  the  session? 

BLAIR 

Records  and  furnishings? 

HAY 

Yes,  the  benches  and  tables  and  books. 

66 


BLAIR 

That's  a  powerful  lot  of  work,  packing  all  those 
things  I  way  up  here. 

HAY 
Well,  it's  a  small  matter  in  the  large  transaction 
of  establishing  a  city. 

LEMEN 
I'm  astonished  that  you  hesitate  at  this,  Mr.  Blair. 

BLAIR 

Hesitate  at  all  that  work!  I  couldn't  think  of 
doing  it — wouldn't  consider  it,  not  for  a 
moment,  under  six  dollars. 

[The  commissioners  turn  away.] 

LEMEN 
It  shall  be  paid. 

[They  go  out  in  a  body.] 

BLAIR 

Belleville — lovely  name,  my  dear. 


67 


SCENE  SEVEN 

[The  first  session  of  the  Orphan's  Court  at  Belle- 
ville; Judge  Thomas  and  Judge  Biggs  presiding,  John 
Hay,  Clerk;  John  Hays,  Sheriff.  The  Court  is  held 
under  the  trees  in  front  of  the  little  log  com  crib 
which  Blair  has  provided.] 

CHARACTERS 

Judge  Thomas Fred  Fleischbein 

Judge  Biggs Jacob  Aull 

John  Hay R.  M.  Hayes 

Mr.  Blair E.  L.  Helms 

Mr.  Hayes,  Sheriff Henry  Beineke 

Jesse  Waddell Harry  Kaufmann 

Mrs.  Blair Sophie  Rhein 

Polly  Snyder Edna  Rentchler 

Mrs.  Jillson Kate  Meng 

WOMEN    GOSSIPS 
Anna  Theis  Alice  Hughes 

Norma  Neu  Anna  Louise  Wangelin 

Frances  Rentchler  Jessie  Wilderman 

Florence  Aull  Dorothy  Winkler 

Lily  Stoll  Irma  Schroeder 

FARMERS 
Irwin  Dunck  August  Chenot 

Walton  Marsh  Francis  Winans 

Ernst  Weber  •         John  Theis 

Clemens  Gundlach 

68 


THE  SHERIFF 

Oyes,  oyes,  oyes.  Silence  is  commanded  while  the 
honorable  the  Orphan  Court  are  sitting  under 
pain  of  imprisonment. 

All  persons  having  anything  to  do  at  this  honor- 
able Court,  either  plea  to  enter  or  suit  to  pro- 
secute, are  requested  to  come  forth  and  they 
shall  be  heard.  God  save  the  United  States  and 
this  their  territory.  W^'^C^^ 

JUDGE  THOMAS     -.^^V)  J- 
What  business  is  before  the  Cour^'^V)^^ 

JUDGE  HAY 
The  first  business  is  to  appoint  a  guardian  for  an 
orphan  child,  Polly  Snyder. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Are  the  parties  in  Court? 

MRS.   JILLSON 
Your  Honor,  I  have  something  to  say  in  this  case. 
This   child,   Polly   Snyder   has   been   for   four 
months  a  charge  on  me,  and  on  Mr.  Waddell. 

CLERK 

[Writing.] 

On  Mr.  Waddell. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Is  Mr.  Waddell  in  Court? 

SHERIFF 
He's  here,  your  Honor. 

[Jesse  Waddell  steps  foi-ward;  he  is  a  tall  hand- 
some young  man.] 

69 


MRS.    JILLSON 
And  it  ain't  a  proper  thing  for  her  to  be  left  this 
way  on  a  bachelor. 

CLERK 
On  a  bachelor. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
I  thought  you  said  she  was  a  charge  on  you,  Mrs. 
Jillson? 

MRS.   JILLSON 
So  I  did,  sir,  and  I  mean  it  too;  but  I'm  looking 
after  his  house  for  Mr.  Waddell  since  his  mother 
died,  and  he  provides  her  keep,  your  honor. 

CLERK 
He  provides  her  keep. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Then  how  is  she  a  charge  on  you,  Mrs.  Jillson  ? 

MRS.   JILLSON 
She's  a  moral  charge,  your  honor. 

CLERK 
Moral  charge. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
And  what  do  you  petition  this  Court  to  do,  Mrs. 
Jillson? 

MRS   JILLSON 

She's  ought  to  be  put  out  to  some  respectable 

family  to  work  for  her  keep.    It's  not  right  and 

proper  for  her  to  be  left  on  a  young  man,  and 

a  bachelor.     It's  not —  [suddenly  confidential.] 

70 


You  surely  understand  this  matter,  Judge. 

[The  clerk  looks  up,  annoyed  at  her  informality.] 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Is  the  child  in  court  ? 

SHERIFF 
Yes,  your  honor. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Mr.  Sheriff,  will  you  kindly  have  this  orphan  child 
brought  before  the  Court  ? 

[Polly  Snyder,  a  pretty  girl  of  seventeen,  steps  for- 
ward near  Jesse  Waddell.  Her  appearance  creates 
a  stir  of  interest,  and  a  group  of  town  gossips  crowd 
nearer  to  follow  what  is  said.] 

JUDGE  THOMAS 

[Looking  at  her  with  surprise.] 
Are  you  the  orphan  child,  Polly  Snyder  ? 

POLLY 
Yes,  sir — I  mean,  yes,  your  honor. 

[The  Judge's  lips  pucker  in  a  silent  whistle  and  he 
turns  to  Judge  Biggs,  Mrs.  Jillson  steps  down  stage, 
so  to  place  herself  between  Waddell  and  Polly.] 

JUDGE    BIGGS 

[To  Judge  Thomas.] 

Did  you  see  that?     See  the  widow  get  between 
them? 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Polly,  this  Court  wishes  to  do  for  you  the  best 
that's  in  its  human  wisdom.     Tell  the  Court, 
how  came  you  to  be  a  charge  on  Mr.  Waddell. 

71 


POLLY 

[Speaking  earnestly  and  very  simply.] 

I  cannot  tell  you  in  my  own  way,  your  honor.  My 
mother  and  father  were  lost.  Our  canoe  sank 
as  we  crossed  the  river.  They  were  drowned. 
Then  an  Indian  took  me  through  the  woods.  He 
tied  my  wrist  to  his  and  made  me  come.  Jesse 
Waddell  came  on  him  at  a  turn  of  the  trail,  and 
took  me  away  from  him.  I  had  no  place — no 
home — no  one.  He  was  kind,  and  his  mother 
was  good  to  me.  Then  she  died.  Mrs.  Jillson 
doesn't  think  I  should  stay.  So  I've  come  to 
Court  to  get  a  guardian. 

[There  is  a  moment  of  silence,  broken  at  last  by 

the  clerk,  who  is  just  completing  his  transcription  of 

her  speech.] 

CLERK 
Get  a  guardian. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Jesse  Waddell,  do  you  want  to  get   rid   of   this 
orphan  child? 

JESSE 

[Interrupted  by  a  look  from  Mrs.  Jillson.] 
No,  sir — I  do  if  it's  for  her  good,  your  honor. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
You're  not  complaining  about  her  keep  ? 

JESSE 
No,  your  honor,  that's  nothing.     You  see,  your 
honor  she's  all  I  have  in  the  world,  since  my  mo- 

72 


ther  died.     But  Mrs.  Jillson    didn't    think    it 
right  and  proper. 

CLERK 
Right  and  proper. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Well,  Mr.  Waddell,  do  you   think   that   by   next 
spring 

JUDGE   BIGGS 
One  moment,  I  should  like  to  put  a  private  ques- 
tion to  Mr.  Waddell. 

[He  pronounces  it  Waddle;  Judge  Thomas  corrects 
him,  and  he  leans  over  to  whisper  to  Jesse,  who  steps 
forward;  the  gossips  also  press  forward,  listening.] 

JUDGE   BIGGS 

[Whispering.] 
Haven't  you  thought  of  marrying  her? 

JESSE 
Oh,  yes,  your  honor — sometime. 

[There  is  a  sudden  movement  of  elation  among  the 
gossips.     The  Judge  confers  a  moment.] 

JUDGE    BIGGS 
Polly,  this  Court  is  going  to  let  you  choose  your 
own  guardian.     Freely,  now,  without  fear  of 
what  anybody  may  think.     This  Court  will  ap- 
point the  guardian  you  choose. 

POLLY 

[Looking  at  Waddell.] 
If  I  choose,  your  honor — 

73 


MRS   JILLSON 

Scandalous !     Is  that  proper  law ! 

JUDGE   BIGGS 
Just  as  I  thought!    Mr.  Clerk  make  record  that 
Jesse  Waddel  has  been  appointed  guardian  of 
Polly  Snyder,  orphan;  he  is  to  report  to  this 
Court  at  the  spring  session. 

MRS   JILLSON 
Well  of  all  the  simple  innoncents ! 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
Are  you  making  an  effort  to  show  your  contempt 
of  this  Court,  madam? 

MRS   JILLSON 

[Turning  back  as  she  is  about  to  go  out.] 
I  am  not,  your  honor.     I  know  it  would  be  hope- 
less. 

[Exit  Mrs.  Jillson.] 

CLERK 
If  the  Court  please,  here  is  a  claim  for  George 
Blair,  for  bringing  the  records  of  the  Court  here 
from  Cahokia.     What  is  the  action  of  the  Court 
on  this  claim  ? 

JUDGE   BIGGS 
What  is  the  amount  of  the  claim  ? 

CLERK 
Six  dollars,  your  honor. 

JUDGE   BIGGS 
Is  George  Blair  in  Court? 

74 


BLAIR 

[Stepping  forward.] 
He  is,  your  honor. 

JUDGE    BIGGS 
Six  dollars  in  a  considerable  sum. 

BLAIR 
It's  reasonable  charge,  your  honor.  A  mere  trifle, 
when  you  think  what  a  powerful  lot  of  work  it 
was  fetching  all  that  stuff.  And  besides,  I  have 
the  matter  of  the  townsite  to  bring  before  the 
Court.  Your  honor  may  not  know  that  I  have 
given  to  the  County  of  Saint  Clair  the  tract 
upon  which  the  Court  is  now  in  session. 

JUDGE   BIGGS 
The  Court  appreciates  your  generosity,  Mr.  Blair. 

BLAIR 
I  have  here  a  plat  of  the  townsite. 

CLERK 
Mr.  Blair  is  too  modest  to  call  the  attention  of  the 
Court  to  the  further  fact  that  he  has  presented 
to  the  County  one  lot  in  each  block  of  the  afore- 
said site. 

JUDGE  THOMAS 
The  Court,  in  behalf  of  the  County  of  St.  Clair, 
expresses  its  gratitude  to  Mr.  Blair,  and  fur- 
ther decrees  that  an  expression  of  its  apprecia- 
tion be  spread  upon  the  record. 

BLAIR 
Your  honor  is  most  magnanimous. 

75 


JUDGE   BIGGS 
May  I  see  that  plat,  sir?    Now  sir,  where  are  the 
lots  presented  to  the  County  ? 

BLAIR 
Right  there,  your  honor.     One  in    every   block. 
Lot  five.     Right  in  the  middle  of  the  block,  your 
honor. 

JUDGE   BIGGS 

[To  Judge  Thomas.] 
TimeoDanaos  turn  donaferentes.A.  lot  in  the  cen- 
ter of  each  block,  sir!    And  how  is  the  County 
to  have  access  to  those  lots  ?    There's  no  front- 
age. 

BLAIR 
Does  your  honor  imagine  that  anybody's  going  to 
be  so  scurvy  mean  as  to  fence  up  these  lots  all 
around  ? 

JUDGE   BIGGS 

[To  Judge  Thomas.] 
I  imagine  there  will  be  no  disagreement  with  the 
ruHng  that  the  expression  of  appreciation  order- 
ed by  the  Court  be  stricken  from  the  record. 

BLAIR 
Now,  your  honor,  I  protest. 

CLERK 

The  Court  has  an  application  from  George  Blair 
to  keep  a  tavern  here  in  Belleville. 

76 


JUDGE   BIGGS 
He's  keeping  it,  isn't  he? 

CLERK 
He  is,  your  honor. 

JUDGE    BIGGS 

Then  let  him  be  Hcensed. 

CLERK 
And  his  tax,  your  honor? 

JUDGE    BIGGS 
Six  Dollars. 

[Blair  is  thunderstinick.  The  crowd  seeing  his  ex- 
pression, forgets  the  Court,  and  breaks  into  riotous 
laughter;  in  the  midst  of  which  the  lights  go  out.] 

WHITE   CLOUD 

Manitou  of  the  Oak^  thy  whispering  leaves 
Are  not  so  many  as  the  marching  feet 
Thou  makest  sound  upon  mine  ears.     I  hear 
The  last  great  war  dance  of  my  people;  hear 
The  voice  of  Black  Hawk  chanting  loud  the  war- 
song; 
But  we  were  poor,  and  we  had  felt  the  pang 
Of  hungry  snow-times.     We  were  filled  with  sleep 
While  Black  Hawk  and  his  band  fought  out  alone 
Our  last  dark  battle.     As  thy  whispering  leaves, 
Oak,  season  after  season  came  the  march 
Of  onward  pale  innumerable  nations ; 
Each  summer  found  their  far-flung  houses  deeper 
Within  our  hunting  grounds.     Each  year  Mon- 

damin 
God  of  the  corn-gift,  gave  the  strangers  comfort. 

77 


They  seized  our  soil,  and  with  unresting  plows 
Made  the  broad  prairies  burn  with  yellow  grain; 
So  they  grow  rich,  while  we  slink  in  and  out, 
Poor  ghosts  amid  the  frozen  stalks  of  corn 
That  wail  beneath  the  bleak  wind's  cruel  feet. 
Yet  they  too  deal  in  strife  who  are  not  free, 
And  in  their  lodges  they  have  Death  for  guest. 
Here  now  behold  the  white  man's  council ;  laws 
Torn  up  and  ancient  freedoms  bound.     Not  ours, 
Not  of  my  people  are  these  broken  feuds. 
And  seeing  these,  my  hate  flames  out  anew, 
And  our  Great  River  foams  and  shows  her  teeth. 
Hear  now  their  war  drums  thundering;  they  go 

forth 
To  seal  their  riven  blood  bonds.     They  too  hold 
Only  by  battle  what  they  build  in  peace. 


78 


SCENE  EIGHT 


[German  men  and  women,  some  dancers  and  some 
newly  arrived  with  many  bundles. 

Citizens,  negroes,  etc. 

A  street  or  open  place  in  Belleville,  in  1853.  A  gate- 
way in  the  hedge  at  the  right  leads  to  Professor 
Deutsch's  house.  When  the  lights  come  on,  a  number 
of  German  settlers  are  waiting,  at  left.  Professor 
Deutsch  enters  from  gateway,  a  book  in  his  hand. 
Enter  Friedrich  Hecker;  he  is  a  lean,  blond  man,  in 
rough  farmer's  clothing;  he  has  a  long  drooping  mus- 
tache, and  a  disconsolate  air.] 

CHARACTERS 

Gustave  Koemer H.  G.  Schmidt 

Colonel  Niles Charles  Hamill 

Friedrich  Hecker Herman  Heimberger 

Professor  Deutsch Elmer  Leopold 

Heinrich  Deutsch Waldo  Hilgard 

A  Justice  of  the  Peace Robert  Imbs 

A  Constable Arthur  Ogle 

A  Negro  Prisoner Elmer  Baldus 

First  Citizen Harold  Emery 

Second  Citizen Marshall  Glueck 

CITIZENS 
Irwin  Dunck  August  Chenot 

Walton  Marsh  Francis  Winans 

79 


Ernst  Weber  Clemens  Gundlach 

John  Theis 

WOMEN    SETTLERS 
Ida  Rodenmeyer  Ida  Knig 

Lulu  Wiesmann  Lulu  Dobschuetz 

Elsie  Williams 

GERMAN   IMMIGRANTS 
Florence  Liese  Oscar  Liese 

Christine  Mullen  Irwin  Leopold 

Vera  Winkelman  Arthur  Bieser 

Grace  Gilbert  Arthur  Davies 

Mae  Hughes  Harold  Emery 

Irma  Schlegel  Walter  Brandenburger 

Anita  Raab  Albert  Steuemagel 

Virginia  Ralph  Arthur  Baldus 

HECKER 
Ah,  Herr  Professor,  wie  geht  es  Ihnen ! 

PROFESSOR 
Ah — Friedrich  Hecker!  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you! 
you  come  so  seldom.  I  think  how  often  of  those 
days  in  the  University— those  stormy  days. 
What  eloquent  speeches  you  made,  and  how 
handsome  you  were — (looking  at  him  intently) 
Hecker,  you've  changed. 

HECKER 
Changed !    Mein  Gott !     What  you  see  is  all  that's 
left  of  an  old  revolutionist  after  five  years  of 
chills  and  fever  in  this  damnable  country.     I 
am  a  shadow. 

PROFESSOR 
You  don't  mean  it  when  you  say  damnable — this 
country. 

HECKER 
No.     The  country's  not  so  bad,  but  the  chills  and 

fever — 

80 


PROFESSOR 
I  have  great  hopes  for  the  country,  my  friend. 
I  know  we  must  live  hard  for  a  time — there  are 
lean  years  to  abide.  Well,  we  are  ready.  We 
are  pioneers.  Before  I  came  out,  I  learned  a 
trade.  I  learned  to  make  shoes.  Ja,  ja,  I,  Herr 
Professor  Deutsch,  who  never  knew  anything 
save  botany,  I  am  a  cobbler. 

HECKER 
But  you  do  not  make  shoes.  Professor? 

PROFESSOR 

No.  The  people  will  not  have  the  ones  I  make.  I 
foresee,  Hecker,  that  we  Germans  are  more  Uke- 
ly  to  find  use  for  our  science,  than  our  shoe- 
making.  We  bring  Goethe  and  Schiller,  Mozart 
and  Beethoven.  Our  idealism  is  a  better  import 
than  the  trades  we  tried  so  hard  to  learn.  I 
may  even  hope  to  return  to  my  botany. 

HECKER 
You  have  a  farm  ? 

PROFESSOR 

A  little  farm.     My  wife  and  the  children  wished  to 

have  it.     It  is  very  interesting.     Hecker,  this 

day  I  bought  a  cow,  and  I  am  now  studying 

about  the  care  of  cattle.     It  is  most  interesting 

[Indicating  his  book.] 

[Voices  are  heard    off  stage,    singing    a    German 
song.] 

HECKER 
Yes,  we  bring  light  and  learning— and  we  find 

81 


chills  and  fever.     Have  you  seen  Gustav  Koer- 
ner? 

PROFESSOR 
He  will  be  here.     There's  a  party  coming  from  the 
Fatherland — I  can  hear  them  now.     He  will  be 
here  to  welcome  them.     Hecker,   about  that 
cow — you  would  never  imagine — 

[Their  voices  are  drowned  in  the  gay  shouts  of  a 
group  of  Germans,  newly  come,  who  rush  on  to  meet 
the  party  waiting  at  left  of  stage.  There  is  moment 
of  hilarious  welcome.  Then  the  music  strikes  up,  and 
the  dance  begins. 

At  the  end  of  the  dance  the  Germans  troop  off  to 
the  right,  Hecker  going  with  them  and  leaving  the 
Professor  aione. 

Enter  Heinrich  Deutsch,  the  Professor's  son;  the 
lad  hangs  over  the  gate  or  hedge  and  speaks  to  his 
father.] 

HEINRICH 
Father,  father,  come  and  show  us  how  to  milk 
the  cow. 

PROFESSOR 
Eh?    What?    Ask  your  mother,  Heinie. 

HEINRICH 
Das  geht  nicht.     Mother  and  Elsa  and  Wilhelm 
and  Rudolf  and  I — we  have  all  tried.    It's  no 
use. 

PROFESSOR 
The  cow,  is  she  patient? 

HEINRICH 
Oh,  yes,  but  we  get  no  milk  from  her.    You  must 
come  and  show  us  how. 

82 


PROFESSOR 
One  moment,  my  son.    Just  one  moment. 

[He  opens  his  book  searches  it  for  the  desired  in- 
formation. As  he  does  so,  a  murmur  of  voices  is 
heard  from  the  left,  rising  rapidly.  Then  a  group  of 
men  comes  on  the  stage,  much  excited,  the  constable 
among  them  leading  a  negro  tied  by  a  rope.  The 
Professor  steps  back  beside  the  gate-way.] 

COLONEL  NILES 
[Going  down  in  front  of  the  constable.]    . 

Hold  on  there.     What  does  that  mean? 

CONSTABLE 
Stand  out  of  my  way,  Colonel.    I'm  doing  my 
duty. 

NILES 
By  whose  orders? 

CONSTABLE 

By  the  Squire's.     It's  all  legal. 

A   CITIZEN 
Get  out  of  this,  Colonel. 

SECOND  CITIZEN 

This  is  no  place  for  a  abolitionist. 
[Enter  Justice  of  the  Peace.] 

NILES 
I  demand  to  know  what  this  man's  crime  is.     I 
demand 

CONSTABLE 
Here  comes  the  Squire,  ask  him  yourself. 

83 


NILES 

Look  her,  Mr.  Justice.     What  does  this  mean? 

What  are  you  going  to  have  done  to  this  man  ? 

JUSTICE 
The  nigger,  you  mean? 

NILES 
Yes. 

JUSTICE 
In  accordance  with  the  law  of  the  state,  I'm  go- 
ing to  have  him  sold. 

NILES 
This  is  a  free  state.     It's  not  according  to  the  law. 

JUSTICE 
Oh,  yes  it  is.  He's  not  free.  He's  been  in  this 
place  ten  days.  The  fine  is  fifty  dollars.  I  can 
put  him  in  jail,  but  there  would  be  no  way  to 
get  him  out.  Do  you  want  to  bid  on  him, 
Colonel? 

FIRST  CITIZEN 

[Tauntingly.] 

Take  a  look  at  him,  Colonel.    You  might  want  to 
buy  him. 

SECOND  CITIZEN 
You'll  get  in  trouble  here,  with  your  New  England 
notions.  Colonel. 

[Niles  strides  forward  impatiently  till  he  stands 
directly  in  front  of  the  negro.  Slowly  he  takes  a 
large  knife  from  his  pocket;  the  constable  gives  back 

84 


a  step.  Niles  swifty  cuts  the  rope  from  the  negro's 
hands.  The  constable  and  the  crowd  move  forward 
to  interfere.     Niles  faces  them.] 

NILES 
Stand  back,  you  slave  drivers! 

CONSTABLE 
Get  out  of  the  way,  Colonel. 

THE    CPwOWD 
Drive  him  out!     He's  a  damned  abolitionist.     Go 
on  with  the  sale.     Go  on. 

THE    JUSTICE 
I  warn  you.  Colonel  Niles.     You  are  interfering 
with  the  law.     If  you  don't  let  this  matter  pro- 
ceed,  I'll  have   you  committed  to  jail.     Con- 
stable, cry  the  sale. 

CONSTABLE 
Hear  ye  all!     This  negro's  indenture  is  for  sale. 
What  am  I  offered  ? 

[Various  bids  are  heard,  mounting  up  to  forty-five 
dollars.  Then  the  First  Citizen  interrupts  with  a 
question.] 

FIRST  CITIZEN 
Hold  on.  Judge.     How  long  is  he  indentured  for? 

JUSTICE 
For  a  fine  of  fifty  dollars  and  costs. 

FIRST   CITIZEN 
How  long  does  that  hold  him? 

JUSTICE 

85 


Till  it's  worked  out. 

SECOND  CITIZEN 
Who's  to  say  how  long  that  is. 

JUSTICE 
The  man  who  gets  him. 

[Murmur  of  satisfaction  from  the  bidders.] 

CONSTABLE 
Forty-five  dollars  I  am  offered. 

[Enter  Gustav  Koerner.     The  Professor  hurries  to 
meet  Koerner,  a  look  of  horror  on  his  face.] 

PROFESSOR 
Thank  God  you've  come,  Koerner. 

KOERNER 
What's  going  on  here. 

PROFESSOR 
They're  selling  a  negro  into  slavery. 

CONSTABLE 
Fifty-five  I'm  offered — fifty-five. 

KOERNER 
What  does  this  menn? 

NILES 
It's  an  outrage  on  humanity. 

CONSTABLE 
Fifty-seven  dollars. 

KOERNER 
What  are  you  doing  here,  Mr.  Justice  ? 


FIRST  CITIZEN 
We  want  no  Dutchman  meddling  here. 

KOERNER 

I  am  not  meddling,  but  I  will  meddle  if  it  is  neces- 
sary. Mr.  Justice,  on  what  ground  of  law  is 
this  sale  conducted? 

JUSTICE 
By  the  law  of  the  state,  Koerner.     You  know  it 
as  well  as  I  do. 

NILES 
It's  an  infamous  law ! 

KOERNER 
I  agree  with  you.  Colonel— but  what  he  says  is 
true.     Give  me  a  moment  here,    Mr.    Justice. 
There  are  a  good  many  of  us  Germans  here,  and 
it  may  be  wiser  not  to  hurry.     So. 
[He  goes  over  to  the  negro.] 
YouVe  been  here  ten  days? 

[The  negro  nods.     Koerner  turns  to  the  contable.] 
What's  his  fine? 

CONSTABLE 

Fifty  dollars. 

And  costs? 

Seventeen. 

KOERNER 
It's  no  business  of  mine.     But  I  am  a  German  and 

87 


KOERNER 
CONSTABLE 


I  believe  in  the  equal  rights  of  all  men.  I  live 
here.  This  is  my  town  and  I  could  not  sleep 
in  peace,  I  could  not  face  my  God  in  the  sense 
of  righteousness,  if  a  man  was  sold  in  slavery 
here. 

[He  takes  out  his  purse.] 
I  am  a  poor  man — but  I  will  not  let  this  be  done 
in  Belleville  while  it  is  in  my  power  to  prevent 
it.    There  is  the  money,  Mr.  Justice.     Let  the 
man  go  free. 

CONSTABLE 
What  shall  I  do,  Squire. 

JUSTICE 
You'll  have  to  let  him  go — the  fine's  settled. 

[The  negro,  dazed,  looking  at  Ko-erner;  starts  for- 
ward as  if  to  thank  him;  Koerner  waves  him  off 
deprecatingly  and  steps  toward  the  Professor;  Niles 
comes  down  beside  him;  the  mob  starts  off  stage  the 
way  they  came,  silent  and  sullen.] 


88 


SCENE  NINE 

CIVIL  WAR 

CHARACTERS 

Colonel  Grant George  Andel 

Colonel  Doherty William  Andel 

Captain  Holcomb Roland  Wiechert 

Captain  Abbot Albert  Steudle 

Gustave  Koerner H.  G.  Schmidt 

VOLUNTEERS 

Chris.  Dietz  (captain)  Roy  Metzler 

Guy  Anderson  Chas.  T.  Miller 

Otto  C.  Bilzing  Wm.  A.  Miller 

J.  C.  Cobb  Robert  M.  Ross 

Otto  Hueffner  Otto  Wenzel 

Phil.  Hueffner  Fred  Werner 

Albert  Hendricks  Edward  Wiechert 

Edward  Kaysing  Isaac  Walker 

DISTINGUISHED  LADIES 

Amanda  Sunkel  Eleanor  Busiek 

Meta  Rombauer  Eugenia  Knoebel 

Anna  Reis 

[A  public  place  in  Belleville,  the  tents  of  the  Volun- 
teers in  the  background.     Time,  spring  of  1861. 

Groups  of  people  in  the  dress  of  the  time  are  seen 
89 


walking   back   and    forth.     Volunteers    in    uniform, 
young  ladies,  etc. 

Judge  Koerner  comes  in  with  Grant,  who  wears  a 
captain's  uniform  and  smokes  a  cigar.  They  go  up 
stage  center  as  they  talk,  slowly.] 

KOERNER 
You  may  carry  my  assurance  to  the  Governor ;  St. 
Clair  County  is  devoted  to  the  cause  of  the 
Union.  These  few  days  have  seen  enhsted 
nearly  five  hundred  men.  The  county  will  give 
five  thousand  if  the  war  lasts. 

GRANT 
We  hope  it  will  not  last. 

KOERNER 
God  forbid  that  it  end  with  a  victory  for  slavery. 

GRANT 
We  must  not  let  it  end  so. 

KOERNER 
It  is  the  idea  of  liberty  that  brings  forward  these 
volunteers,  especially  those  of  German  blood. 
You  know  how  we  feel  on  that  score,  Captain. 

GRANT 
Yes. 

[Colonel  Doherty  enters.] 

KOERNER 
I  must  make  you  acquainted  with  our  officers. 
Colonel  Doherty,  permit  me  to  introduce  Cap- 
tain   Grant,    Assistant    Adjutant    General    of 
Illinois. 

90 


COLONEL  DOHERTY 
rm  glad  to  see  you,  Captain.     Haven't  we  met  be- 
fore.    Are  you  John  Grant  of  Springfield  ? 

GRANT 

[Shifting  cigar  and  facing  audience  for  first  time.] 

Ulysses  S.  .  .  .  Galena. 

[A  group  of  ladies  approach  Koerner  from  right, 
bringing  the  flag;  he  speaks  with  them  a  moment  a- 
side;  the  Colonel  introduces  Grant  to  two  other  offi- 
cers; he  then  goes  off.  Bugle  call  sounds  immediately 
after  his  exit,  left.  The  ladies  and  civilians  draw  back 
of  Koerner  at  right  of  stage;  the  Judge  standing  at 
the  head  of  the  group  with  the  flag;  Grant  at  centre 
back. 

Enter  soldiers  forming  in  ranks,  at  right  of  stage. 
Koerner  addresses  them.] 

KOERNER 
The  patriotic  ladies  of  Belleville  have  honored  me 
with  the  charge  of  transmitting  to  you  this 
flag,  made  by  their  fair  hands.  It  is  the  flag 
of  our  country,  which  never  has  been  sullied, 
never  has  been  disgraced.  In  your  ranks  I  see 
many  who,  hke  myself,  have  left  another  hemis- 
phere to  plant  their  homes  upon  this  free  soil. 
My  heart  swells  with  joy  and  pride  to  see  so 
many  of  you  amongst  the  first  to  sustain  the 
right  and  honor  of  our  adopted  country.  Re- 
member that  you  are  now  Americans.  Remem- 
ber that  you  are  going  to  war  with  your  breth- 
ren, and  so  temper  your  conducts  that  no  need- 
less severity  be  laid  to  your  charge,  no  harsher 
measures  be  used  than  those  which  the  stern 

91 


necessities  of  war  demand.  Receive  then,  brave 
volunteers,  this  flag,  the  gift  of  your  country- 
women. Support  and  defend  it  to  the  very  last. 
Not  your  honor  alone  is  concerned,  but  the 
honor  of  us  all,  the  honor  of  our  State  and  our 
common  country. 

[At  a  gesture  from  Colonel  Doherty,  Captain  Hol- 

comb  receives  the  flag;    Captain    Abbot    speaks    in 

reply.] 

CAPTAIN  ABBOTT 
We  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  counsel,  and  the  noble 
women  of  our  city  for  this  flag.  We  know  that, 
much  as  you  are  concerned  with  our  welfare, 
you  would  rather  hear  of  our  death  than  our 
dishonor.  On  these  terms  we  accept  this  flag. 
We  will  never  return  without  it. 

[Cheers.  The  lights  are  dimmed  as  the  troops 
march  off;  a  spot  light  holding,  at  the  back  of  the 
stage,  the  watching  figure  of  Grant,  for  a  moment 
after  they  have  disappeared.] 


92 


SCENE  TEN 

EAST   ST.   LOUIS 

[East  St.  Louis— Along, Ihii-Sft^sJ^   J^E^*-' 
The  scene  is  along  the  l|^Dlik«JilrSt.  Louis,  1878.] 

CHARACTERS 

John  B.  Bowman Dan  R.  Webb 

John  B.  Tefft John  E.  Miller 

H.  G.  Weber Kevine  Kane 

James  Connors Wm.  Seeger 

Mother  Croke Mrs.  Rose  Boylan 

A  Watcher  of  the  Flood J.  L.  Moon 

First  Refugee J.  W.  Reed 

Second  Refugee Leon  G.  Smith 

A  Woman  Refugee Miss  Nellie  Bailey 

A  Captain  of  Militia Homer  Hodson 

Mr.  Darrell S.  E.  Wilson 

Mr.  Feeney Martin  Drury 

Mr.  Barr J.  H.  Yingst 

A  Workman  on  the  Dike Theo.  Soelinger 

Soldiers,  Refugees,  Deputies,  Partisans  of  Bow- 
man and  Darrell.     Workers  along  the  Dyke. 
J.    M.    Sullivan  Misses  Gladys  Hohl 

E.  Campbell  L.  Poettgen 

93 


F.  Jenger  Mrs.  Leon  G.  Smith 

G.  Hennan  Margeret  Smith 
M.  Fehner  Frances   Mace 
E.  McBeth  Viola    McHale 
Ralph  Smith  Vera  McHale 
W.  E.  Nixon  Margaret  Coons 
W.  E.  Dittenmeyer  Mary  Griffin 
Omer  Weilmuenster  Elizabeth  Lentz 
W.  C.  Reus  Anna  Lentz 
Mesdames  J.  Kircher  Ethel   Bailey 

B.   Griffin  Ethel  Ellis 

Mayme  Meteer  Mammie  Hayes 

Pearl  Bell  Janette  Kirschner 

THE  WATCHER  OF  THE  FLOOD 
Still  rising.    More  sand  here. 

A  VOICE 
How  many? 

WATCHER 

Ten  bags  '11  hold  her  awhile. 

[Workers  come  in  and  lay  bags  of  sand  along  the 
embankment.] 

WORKMAN 
Mother  Croke's  out  again — I  hear  her  up  yon- 
der— singing  and  cursing  the  river. 

WATCHER 

Poor  old  soul — they  ought  to  watch  her  better. 
[Enter  Refugees.] 

WATCHER 
Wet  down  your  way? 

94 


FIRST  REFUGEE 
First  floor's  full.     Reckon  we'll  lose   our  stock 
again. 

[Enter  Mother  Croke.] 

WOMAN  REFUGEE 
The  landlord  told  us  it  never  came  up  to  the  house 
we  were  in  now ;  the  parlor  furniture's  all  afloat 
in  the  mud,  and  we've  lost  all  our  chickens. 

MOTHER  CROKE 
I  lost  my  chickens  too.     That  was  in  fifty-eight. 

THE  WATCHER 
You  ought  not  to  be  out   here,    Mother   Croke. 
They  ought  to  look  out  for  you. 

MOTHER  CROKE 
WhoVe  I  got  to  look  out  for  me.     The  river  took 
all  them  that  looked  out  for  me. 

THE   WOMAN  REFUGEE 
Come  along  with  me,  Mrs.  Croke — we're  going  up 
to  the  bluffs. 

MOTHER  CROKE 
No  I  thank  ye — I  can't  leave.  I  always  come  here 
when  the  waters  rise.  I  have  to  watch.  They 
try  to  hold  me  up  there — but  I  get  away.  I 
used  to  think  the  river  might  bring  me  back 
what  she  took  but  I  know  now  she  never  will. 

THE    WOMAN 
But  you  can't  do  any  good  here,  Mother. 

95 


MOTHER  CROKE 
I  can  sit  here  and  watch.  She's  afraid  of  me — 
I've  such  a  hate  for  her  in  my  heart.  She's 
never  come  so  high  since  I've  cursed  her — never 
so  high  as  in  fifty-eight.  Sand  bags— they 
don't  help — but  when  I  sit  here  and  watch  her, 
she  don't  dare  come  up. 

A  VOICE  OFF  STAGE 
Nine  feet  eight. 

WATCHMAN 
Still  rising. 

MOTHER  CROKE 

Go  along  all  you  people — leave  her  to  me. 

[She  sits  looking  out  over  the  water.  More  Re- 
fugees gather.  A  roof  of  a  house  floats  by,  all  look- 
ing at  it. 

Enter  Barrel  and  Feeney.] 

DARRELL 

How  is  she  now,  Watchman? 

WATCHMAN 
Still  rising,  alderman,  but  slowly.     I  reckon  she's 
about  up. 

[More  refugees  enter — there  is  now  a  group  of 
twenty  or  so.] 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
Are  you  an  alderman  of  this  damned  town  ? 

DARRELL 
Yes,  my  friend. 

96 


FIRST  REFUGEE 
Then  why  don't  you  do  something  about  this  sort 
of  thing? 

DARRELL 
That's  easier  said  than  done. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
I  didn't  say  it  was  easy — but  if  you  expect  people 
to  live  it's  necessary. 

DARRELL 
I  quite  agree  with  you,  my  friend!     But  what  are 
we  to  do?     The  Council  can't  move  while  the 
Mayor  and  his  crowd  block  everything. 

SECOND   REFUGEE 
What  does  he  want,  anyway? 

FIRST  REFUGEE 

We  ought  to  hold  a  meeting — ^we  ought  to  do  some_ 
thing. 

DARRELL 

Again  I  agree  with  you.  You  asked  what  the 
Mayor  wants.  I'll  tell  you.  You  see  that 
foundation  over  there — the  one  with  the  ladder 
up  to  it.  He  wants  the  whole  town  built  on  that 
grade.  He  wants  all  the  lots  filled  that  deep. 
He  wants  all  the  streets  raised  to  that  level. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
That  can't  be  done — you  know  that.     Look  what 
it  would  cost. 

OTHERS 
Impossible.     Can't  be  done,  etc. 

97 


DARRELL 
Well  if  you  can't  afford  it,  the  Mayor  has  no  ob- 
jections to  j^our  moving  away. 

SECOND  REFUGEE 
So  he  and  his  crowd  could  pinch  us  out.     Well  it 
won't  work — this'll  never  be  a  rich  man's  town. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
We  ought  to  hold  a  meeting  right  here.    We  ought 
to  have  a  dike  built.     We  ought  to  let  John 
Bowman  know  he    can't   run   the   town.    We 
ought 

DARRELL 
I  quite  agree  with  you.     But    we've    elected    a 
Hungarian  autocrat  as  Mayor,  and  now  we  stand 
here  and  talk,  while  the  water  rises. 

FEENEY 
Alderman — ^these  people  all  think  as  we  do. 

REFUGEES 
We're  with  you !    Go  ahead ! 

FEENEY 
I  move  you  sir,  that  this  indignation  meeting  be 
regularly  called  to  order  and  that  you,  sir,  tell 
us  the  facts  about  the  irregular  status  of  the 
Mayor  and  his  council. 

REFUGEES 
Aye.     Aye. 


98 


FIRST  REFUGEE 
Let's  have  an  indignation  meeting — Let's  do  some- 
thing. 

DARRELL 

You  may  not  know,  my  friends,  that  steps  are  al- 
ready on  the  way.  The  Mayor's  council  is  elect- 
ed under  an  illegal  act  of  incorporation — as  we 
can  prove.  He  stands  for  this  crazy  scheme  of 
grade  raising.  He  wants  to  drive  you  out  of 
town.  He's  a  land  speculator  and  a  tyrant.  He 
wants  to  ruin  you  all  by  raising  the  grades. 
Why?  I'll  tell  you — it  would  make  him  a  rich 
man — that's  why. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
Then  we  ought  to  drive  him  out. 

SECOND  REFUGEE 
We  ought  to  string  him  up.    He's  governing  us 
illegally  and  the  flood  is  gutting  the  town. 
DARRELL 
You'll  find  it  all  as  I  say.     As  an  alderman  and  a 
citizen  I'm  with  you.     We've  got  to  make  an  end 
of  this. 

FEENEY 

[Interrupting.] 

For  God's  sake,  Darrell— here  he  comes. 

DARRELL 
Let  him  come.     Our  friends  here  will  tell  him 
what  they  think  of  him. 

[Enter  Bowman  and  Tefft,  walking  along  the  edge 
of  the  dike.] 

99 


MOTHER   CROKE 
God  help  you,  Mr.  Mayor. 

SECOND  REFUGEE 
There  he  is — there^s  the  man  we're  after. 

OTHERS 

[Shouting.] 

Robber!    String  him  up — He  wants  to  drive  us 
out.    Thief!   Hound!   etc. 

[Bowman  stands  still  for  a  moment,  facing  them 
and  the  shouting  dies  down.  He  looks  from  the  crowd 
to  DarrelL] 

BOWMAN 

I  know  what  you've  been  saying  when  I  see  who 
is  here. 

SECOND  REFUGEE 
This  is  a  meeting,  Bowman;  we  won't  stand  any 
abuse. 

BOWMAN 
No.     You'll  hear  none  from  me.     We  are  bro- 
thers in  misfortune — it's  no  time  to  fight  among 
ourselves. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
We  want  to  be  peaceable,  Bowman,  but  we  demand 
action. 

SECOND   REFUGEE 
Our  houses  are  being  flooded,  and  you're  to  blame. 
You  can't  quiet  us  with  palavering  about  bro- 
thers.    I'm  damned  if  you're  any  brother  of 
mine.     You're  house  ain't  flooded. 

100 


BOWMAN 
My  town  is. 

DARRELL 
It'll  be  your  town,  if  this  goes  on,  Bowman — your 
muddy  pig  pen  of  a  town.     These  people  know 
where  you  stand. 

BOWMAN 
No,  they  do  not  know. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
You  favor  this  mad  idea  of  raising  all  the  grades, 
don't  you  ?     You  know  that  would  ruin  all  of  us. 

SECOND   REFUGEE 
You've  blocked  the  building  of  the  dike,  haven't 
you?     You've  let  the  water  in  on  us,  haven't 
you? 

BOWMAN 

My  friends,  you  cannot  build  a  dike  high  enough ; 
if  you  could,  our  city  would  smother  itself  in  the 
undrained  pollution  behind  it.  You  see  that 
foundation  yonder — that's  the  height  our 
streets  will  have  to  be.  I  have  been  to  Wash- 
ington for  help — and  got  none.  We  must  first 
help  ourselves.  We  must  protect  our  com- 
merce. We  must  build  our  town  on  the  rock — 
not  on  the  sand.  It  costs  money — it  is  hard — 
I  admit  all  that.  But  we  must  not  look  for- 
ward to  a  life  of  dread  whenever  the  river 
swells.  We  must  not  rear  our  children  in  a 
quagmire.  This  city  has  a  magnificant  future — 
we  must  look  forward  and  build  to  that. 
101 


DARRELL 

We've  heard  you  talk  of  future,  Bowman,  long: 

enough.     What  about  the  present — to-night  ? 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
Let  him  finish,  alderman.     Fair  play. 

BOWMAN 
For  to-night  I  have  taken  what  steps  I  thought 
best  and  Fm  doing  what  I  can.  We  must  pre- 
serve order  now,  but  when  the  water  goes  down, 
we  must  work  for  a  new  order.  And  we  shall 
have  it,  too.  Who  is  there  among  you  who  would 
not  rather  live  on  that  level  [pointing  to  the  foun- 
dation] than  below  it?  We  have  only  to  begin, 
and  capital  will  flow  in  to  complete  the  work. 
You  men  and  women  who  are  driven  from  your 
homes  to-night,  do  you  want  to  go  back  to  them 
as  they  are — or  do  you  want  to  bear  your  share 
in  the  labor  that  will  make  them  safe  forever? 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
But  can  it  be  done — is  it  worth  the  struggle  ? 

BOWMAN 
My  friends — we  shall  Hve  to  see  a  city  worth  fight- 
ing for.    The  lines  of  trade  that  make  a  city's 
destiny  converge  here.     The  future  is  as  cer- 
tain as  life. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
Maybe  he's  right. 

102 


SECOND   REFUGEE 
Our  trade  would  be  immense  if  we  could  make  it 
safe — no  doubt  of  that. 

FIRST    REFUGEE 
If  there  is  to  be  a  new  order — 

[^lenacingly,  looking  at  Bowman.] 

DARRELL 
There  is,  my  friend — a  new  order.  Good  night! 
[Darrell  and  Feeney  go  out.] 

BOWMAN 
How  is  it  now,  watchman  ? 

WATCHER 
Not  much  change,  Mr.  Bowman. 

MOTHER    CROKE 
She  knows  I'm  here  now.     She  won't  come  any 
higher. 

BOWMAN 
Better  go  back,  then.  Mother. 

MOTHER    CROKE 
You  know  how  she  goes  down  when  I  come,  don't 
you,  Mr.  Bowman? 

BOWMAN 
Yes,  mother,  I  know.     You  go  back  now. 

WOMAN  REFUGEE 
I  tried  to  get  her  to  come  with  me. 

BOWMAN 

Good.     Now,  Mother.     I'll  have  to  give  you  or- 
ders— I'm  still  the  Mayor,  you  know. 
103 


MOTHER    CROKE 
I  can't  go  yet.     I  can't  leave  yet.     I  must  watch. 
[Enter  Sheriff  Weber.] 

SHERIFF  WEBER 
Mr.  Bowman,  I  hear  the  old  council  crowd  is  down 
at  the  engine  house.    They're  holding  a  meet- 
ing. 

BOWMAN 
That's  all  right,  Sheriff.     Let  them  talk.     This  is 
no  time  to  quarrel  with  them. 

SHERIFF 
They  mean  to  make  trouble,  Mr.  Bowman.  They're 
playing  some  trick  with  the  metropolitan  police 
behind  them. 

BOWMAN 
Sheriff,  we've  -still  a  bad  night's  work  ahead  of  us. 
I've  sent  for  a  company  of  mihtia,  but  even  with 
their  help  it  may  be  bad  enough  when  the  water 
begins  to  fall.  I'll  not  worry  about  Darrell  and 
his  crowd — not  now. 

WEBER 
Just  as  you  say,  Mr.  Bowman. 

BOWMAN 

Better  bring  out  your  deputies  and  post  them, 

Sheriff.     You  know  what's  Hkely  to  happen. 

WEBER 
We'll  report  to  you  here,  Mr.  Mayor. 
[Weber  goes  out.] 

104 


TEFFT 

[Who  has  been  speaking  aside  with  the  refugees.] 
Mr.  Bowman,  there's  trouble  afoot  with  Barrel's 
crowd. 

BOWMAN 

I  know.  But  we  have  to  look  out  for  the  rats 
when  the  water  goes  down.  And  there  will  be 
relief  work  to  do.  I've  no  time  to  argue  with 
them. 

TEFFT 

They  don't  mean  to  argue. 

BOWMAN 

They  can  only  talk  and  obstruct — that's  all 
they're  good  for.  I'll  let  them  talk,  but  I  will 
not  let  them  obstruct. 

WATCHER 
She's  been  stationary  for  nearly  ten  minutes. 

MOTHER    CROKE 
Let  her  come  an  inch  higher  if  she  dares — she 
knows  I'm  here.     See  how  black  and  still  she 
looks. 

[Re-enter  Sheriff  Weber  with  deputies.] 

SHERIFF 
All  here,  Mayor  Bowman. 

BOWMAN 
You  know  your  duty,  men.     I  need  not  tell  you  to 
be  vigilant,  and  to  be  patient  with  the  people 
who  have  lost  their  goods.     And  if  you  discover 

any  looting  of  houses  as  the  water  falls 

105 


SHERIFF 
We  understand,  sir. 

[Enter  Mr.  Barr.] 

BARR 
Mr.  Bowman,  I  am  asked  to  inform  you  that  the 
legal  city  council  is  now  in  session  at  the  Engine 
House,  and  that  it  is  your  right  to  preside  over 
the  meeting. 

BOWMAN 
You  mean  the  old  council — DarrelFs  crowd. 

BARR 

Yes — I  mean  the  legally  elected  city  council  of 
East  St.  Louis. 

BOWMAN 
They  recognize  me  as  the  legally  elected  Mayor  ? 

BARR 

Yes. 

BOWMAN 
Well,  I  do  not  recognize  them. 

BARR 
So  we  supposed,  and  I  have  to  inform  you  that 
they  have  chosen  an  Acting  Maj^or,  that  they 
have  taken  charge  of  the  metropolitan  police, 
and  that  you  exercise  authority  here  at  your 
peril. 

BOWMAN 
I  have  no  choice — I  must  exercise  authority. 

106 


BARR 

[Consulting  his  watch.] 
The  police  will  go  to  their  posts  in  ten  minutes. 
After  that — you've  got  your  warning,  Bowman. 
[Exit  Barr.] 

SECOND   REFUGEE 
Good  God — I  didn't  think  they'd  go  as  far  as  that. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
It's  terrible.     Why  Mr.  Bowman,  the  city  in  this 
emergency  without  your  help 

BOWMAN 
Sheriff,  this  is  insurrection  against  law  and  or- 
der.    You  will  place  the  members  of  this  old 
council  meeting  under  arrest  immediately. 

SHERIFF  WEBER 
I  hear  they're  armed,  Mr.  Bowman. 

BOWMAN 
We  have  eight  minutes. 

TEFFT 
For  the  love  of  God,  Mr.  Bowman,  don't  show 
yourself.     It's  you  they're  after.     It  will  only 
lead  to  fighting  if  you  go. 
BOWMAN 
You  may  be  right,  John. 

SEVERAL    REFUGEES 
Don't  go,  Mr.  Bowman.     It  would  only  stir  up 
trouble,  etc. 

107 


BOWMAN 

I'll  wait  here,  Sheriff.  You  know  what  to  do. 
They  will  give  in  when  they  see  you're  in 
earnest. 

[Exeunt  Sheriff  and  men.] 
[A  pause.] 

IMOTHER    CROKE 

[To  the  river.] 

So  you're  going  down,  you  black  murdering  old 
serpent.  You  know  I'm  here,  and  you  shrink 
back.  You  got  my  chickens,  and  my  house,  and 
the  cradle,  and  what  was  in  it,  and  you  slunk 
away.  They'll  build  dikes  to  hold  you,  and 
you'll  just  gurgle  over  them.  So  long  as  the 
town  lies  under  your  mark  you'll  creep  and 
swash  into  it,  and  the  ice'll  bark  the  tall  trees. 

WOMAN  REFUGEE 
Let's  go  on — I  can't  bear  to  hear  her. 

FIRST  REFUGEE 
We  can't  start  yet — we  must  wait  and  see. 

[A  sound  of  firing  is  heard  off  stage.] 

TEFFT 
Good  God— They're  fighting! 

[The  refugees  shrink  together  at  the  left  of  the 
stage.  The  firing  continues  and  the  deputies  fall  back, 
fighting,  coming  on  stage  at  right.  As  they  reach 
right  center  one  of  them  is  hit.  He  leans  for  an  in- 
stant on  Sheriff  Weber,  spins  around  and  falls  at 
Bowman's  feet.] 

SHERIFF  WEBER 
It's  Jim  Connors.     They've  hit  him. 

108 


BOWMAN 

The  cowards.     They've  killed  him. 

[He  starts  toward  right.     Tefft  holds  him  back.] 

TEFFT 
Don't  stir,  Bowman.     They're  waiting  for  you. 

BOWMAN 
Let  me  go — let  me  go. 

SHERIFF  WEBER 

Stay  where  you  are,  Mr.  Bowman. 

BOWMAN 

[Leaning  over  Conners.] 

Poor  boy.     And  I  sent  him  into  this.     I  thought  it 

was  for  the  best — Poor  lad ! 

[Enter   Militia   Company.     The   Captain   goes   for- 
ward to  Bo\\Tnan  and  Weber.] 

CAPTAIN 
I  am  instructed  by  Governor  Cullom  to  report  to 
you  for  orders,  Mr.    Bowman.     I    understand 
there's   resistance  to  law  at  the  city  engine 
house.     Are  we  to  take  the  building,  sir  ? 

BOWMAN 

[After  a  pause.] 

No.  There  has  been  blood  shed  here.  Let  there  be 
no  more  of  that.  We  have  enough  to  do  to  make 
a  city  above  the  reach  of  flood — fighting  enough 
against  the  merciless  powers  of  nature.  I  can 
see  it  clearly,  my  friends — the  great  peace,  the 
mighty  uprising  of  industry,  the  tide  of  com- 
merce filling  all  this  plain  from  the  impregnable 
dikes  of  the  future  to  the  hills.  You  will  all  see 
109 


it.     But  to-night  we  have  work  to  do.     And  for 
my  part,  I  will  carry  this  strife  no  further.     Let 
there  be  order,  and  let  us  wait  for  peace. 
[The  light  goes  out.] 

WHITE   CLOUD 
Manitou,  these  are  idle  things.     I  see 
Through  all  this  flame  and  fight,  the  winter  fall. 
We  come  from  barren  councils  home  to  beg 
For  food.    And  while  we  stand  aside  and  sulk 
Desiring  war  but  never  daring  it, 
The  paleface  beaver  peoples  build  their  dams, 
The  furrows  creep  across  the  hunting  grounds. 
And  foolish  treaties  bind  us  to  our  woe. 
Their  beaver  work  stands  firm  against  the  frost, 
While  eagles  flee  before  the  winter  stars ; 
We  watch  the  leafage  of  our  state  drift  down 
While  here  they  build  another,  fashioned  strong 
In  laws  we  may  not  learn,  and  mysteries 
They  offer  us  too  late.    For  us  the  trail 
Leads  on  to  night.     Great  Manitou,  my  prayer 
Is  granted,  and  my  darkened  eyes  behold 
The  ruin  of  our  nations.     Oak,  I  make 
My  sacrifice  to  thee,  and  so  depart 
Wise  in  thy  bitter  dream,  uncomforted. 

[The  characters  of  the  entire  Pageant  pass  across 

the  stage  in  review,  in  reversed  chronological  order, 

White  Cloud  passing  last.] 


110 


